Mellan Sommar och Höst Between Summer and Autumn
by goetterdamerung
Summary: When the Church and the Crown meet, many things change, but somethings will never change... Greed, Betrayal, Love and Fear.           Chapters 3 - 7 added en masse 28th Feb 2011
1. Between Summer and Autumn

Chapter 1: Äntligen (Finally)

I could kill him; I mean, just look at him, sweet sin oozing from every pore, while butter wouldn't melt in his mouth... Lord I want to melt in that mouth.

All he's doing is sweeping the floor, but I know... gods do I know what he's thinking.

It's all there, the hands loosely wrapped around the handle, gently caressing it as they slide languorously along the shaft; a sharp twist as his left hand reaches the tip then another slow long glide down to meet his right hand.

Then you have what his right hand is doing; the thumb lying along the base of the handle, his palm firmly holding the shaft in place; his other four fingers relaxed, as if cupping something, only a slight rippling motion as his arms push the broom to and fro is evident.

Those hands are making love to a broom handle... and not me.

I could almost ignore all of that if it wasn't for his eyes...

His eyes have gone all hooded, long eyelashes obscuring his pupils; which are wide and black, barely any blue is visible; looking at me, daring me with those sultry eyes and come hither glances.  
Daring me to do something, daring me to act on what I see.

Look at him; just sitting there, staring at me, his hands... his hands, so calloused and worn, yet so graceful and gentle when he wants... and he wants.

His left hand lays along the armrest, letting his thumb and littlest finger grip the sides, rhythmically squeezing the armrest... milking it. His middle finger gently caressing the timber, he slowly drags the finger tip up and down the wood in a maddening way. That finger alone promises so much, but gives so little.

His right hand casually masks the right side of his face, his thumb worrying his lip ever so gently; his pointer finger rests along the edge of his brow, stroking in time to the movements of his left hand.

Watching him, I can't take my eyes of him as he angles his head downwards whilst still keeping his gaze on me. Eyes that burn hotly with need, with desire, with sheer lust... and it is all aimed at me.

I know my breath hitches and I know he knows as well.

The broom drops gracelessly to the floor as he takes in the sight before him. I'm so aroused, he has to be able to see, he must know that now... please god now, it is time.

It is finally time.

I hear him breathe deeply; catching halfway and I can't turn away. My fingers go numb; as if there is no sensation, other than that of Arthur... and Arthur breathing.

How he hasn't seen me so erect is incredible, never have I seen anyone with the sheer magnetism that he exudes effortlessly... and now it is all turned on me and I am helpless before it and the broom drops without I knowing it as I drink in the sight before me.

Letting my own breathing match his does nothing to relieve the burn, please... please let it be time.

Finally, let it be time.

"Arthur?" I almost don't recognise my own voice, dark and longing, filled with need; but I have to ask, I must know.

His eyes tell me everything; everything he can and can't say; his eyes tell me yes, it is time... finally.

Reaching forward to his face, one hand on either side; pulling his face forward towards me as I move my face closer to his.

So close now, his lips but a mere distance from mine, his breath gusting against my face, his lips red and lightly swollen, just slightly parted by the tip his tongue... it's all I can do but to breath out the word 'finally' as I kiss him for the first time.

There is nothing sweet and tender about this first kiss, it is driven by months need and frustration; driven by the difference in our status', driven by the knowledge that this is forbidden.

What drives both of us is all of this and more, this is not true love, love plays only a tiny part in this; this is need, a desperate craving. No, love has little to do with this.

Forcing my tongue deeper into his mouth, his moans being swallowed by my own, we fight for dominance, we fight for respect and we fight because that is who we both are in reality.

Moving my head further down, his stubble rasping at my cheek, I mouth along the outline of his jaw, nibbling the sensitive skin below his chin, moving further down to take his Adams apple in my mouth, running my tongue over the raised surface; feeling him swallow as it bobs within the confines of my mouth.

Needing to mark him as mine, I hollow my cheeks and increase the suction I am applying. His groan torn from his throat as his hands fist tightly within my hair, holding me tightly against his throat... and then it happens.

Arthur lets a guttural moan escape and tips his head back fully, exposing his throat to me... surrendering.

An animalistic snarl drawn from me at his action, moving further downwards, my hands paw the linen of his shirt, scrambling for purchase. Somehow managing to grip tightly I rent the fabric from his chest, leaving his chest exposed to me.

His nipples, pebbled tightly amongst the fine hair dusting his chest, his skin glowing with a ruddy sheen from the sweat.

Locking my mouth over one of his nipples, I scrape my teeth against the tight nub, nipping at it, twisting it, each technique having a different effect on Arthur as he moans and cries out.

I am so hard now beneath my breeches that it is a physical ache and I know I can't last much longer.

Standing back up, ignoring his growled protest I lift him forward and fumble at his breeches, vainly attempting to undo them.

Snarling with frustration, I yank his breeches down over his hips roughly, enjoying his pained moan this elicits from him.

"Turn around and lean over the chair Arthur." It is all but a command, short and sharp, his moan is different this time, deeper, hungrier... needier.

With one hand kneading the muscles of his buttocks and my other hand working on the knots of my own breeches, I am almost high on the expectation alone.

Running a finger along the cleft, stilling over his hole, I let my finger rub around the tight muscle, relaxing him as much as possible before easing my finger into him.

A pained grunt is forced from within him, but what am I to believe, his words or his actions... each time I press further into him, he arches his back and presses back further, forcing my finger in deeper and deeper to him.

Unable to control myself any further, I finally manage to get my cock out and pulling out my finger, replace it with the blunt head of my dick.

"Arthur?" It is both a question and a statement of intent, I am barely aware of the gruff "do it" that answers me, but aware enough for it to register.

Pushing inside him is hard, there is nothing to lubricate him and he is so tight, but we are both beyond the point where we could stop.

Finally managing to get the head of my cock inside him, I know it is hurting him, but he still keeps pushing back onto me. Taking pity on both of us, I grip his hips firmly and square my feet. Using all the power in my hips and legs I thrust, deep and hard.

His agonised scream rends the air as I push through all his resistance, until I feel the back of his arse on the front of my balls. It feels so good, so tight and smooth.

I can't hold on anymore and pull back out halfway, only to ram back into him again.

Each thrust into him elicits from him a moan, sometimes pained, but more and more pleasured, I can feel his hands working on his cock, getting himself harder and harder. It is his pleasure that finally does it for me as each thrust is met with one of his own and the pressure has built up inside of me for too long.

Leaning across his back, I grip his shoulders and use the added leverage to thrust deeper and deeper until my own howl of completion echoes throughout the chamber, leaving me faint and disoriented.

His own release follows quickly after, his cry reverberating over the echoes of my own.

Gathering him in my arms, we sink slowly to the ground, each breath taken as if it were our last.

With exhaustion so close I am simply content to have him in my arms and as my eyes slowly close a single word passes his lips.

"Finally."

* * *

Chapter 2: Berusa Mig (Intoxicate Me)

Summary:

Arthur learns the true definition of intoxication

* * *

I can feel the turning of the hours as quickly as the passing of seconds and yet, here we still lay where we fell the night gone by.

So much has happened since we entered my chambers last night and still Merlin's hold on me lingers; not only by his arm, furled around my waist; his breath, softly blowing against the nape of my neck; or even his legs, entwined in mine.

No, his hold on me goes deeper than just these physical aspects. The power he exerts over me is only what I myself gift him; but no, that's not quite right either. It is difficult to explain I suppose. He only has to walk into a room and he draws eyes, not only for his looks, but for a definite presence he exudes.

It is a different presence to my own; and if I am being honest with myself, his is a more natural presence than mine. I have been trained all my life to be the next King of Camelot... and all that entails; my mannerisms affectated, adopted for the role I must play continually for myself, my father and all those surrounding me. That is not to say that is not who I am... it is what I am, but not who.

Merlin's smile alone can bring me to cheer, or his laugh can bring a matching one of my own. Conversely, when Merlin is afraid I feel a chill through me and when he is upset, my own world dims in return... but most importantly, when he is not there, I feel empty.

As I say, Merlin has his own presence that manifests itself in hundreds of little ways... but maybe only I can see them all.

He is murmuring softly into my ear now; still sleeping, but still thinking of me. His arm tightens more around my waist, his hand moving lower to cover my shame... huh, no shame there, but I also realise that this is the first time he has touched me there.

Last night comes flying back to me, his lips on mine; soft and tender, but still demanding. His teeth worrying my lips and neck, marking me indelibly, making me his... as if I wasn't already.

My nipples still ache where he teased and nipped at them, lovingly lathed them and painfully twisted them. All I could do was arch into his touch, craving his hands and mouth on me, to do as he wished.

Straightening my leg reminds me of how he claimed me finally. The deep, sullen ache inside me, the abused muscles and the feeling of him, his release dried in streams down my thighs where it slowly ran from where he implanted it within me.

Never have I felt such extremes before; his finger alone caused a burning stretch within me, but as he forced his length deep inside me... oh my god... the pain... the pain, it was all I could do to not pull myself off of him, but then again, I couldn't have done that either. I've never been with a man before, I was raised to believe the act was unclean... an abomination.

Since the coming of the Christers and their god Jesu, many things have changed; some good... but not many. It is the fear of the Christers that fuels this anger against what I have shared with Merlin. It is said that the worship of Jesu fills one with everlasting peace and joy; and I am not one to say nay to this, but I have found this past night, that the worship of Merlin does the same; his essence within me intoxicating.

* * *

Chapter 3: Varmt och Djupt (Hot and Deep)

Summary:

It's the morning after the night before, Arthur has had his epiphany, Merlin has his world rocked... and Arthur reveals all.

* * *

Heat, I can feel it all down my front.

Opening my eyes all I can see is a dishevelled blonde head in front of me, sweat slickened to the nape of his neck; long graceful lines leading my vision across the expanse of the top of his back.

His skin a golden hue, broad and muscled with such strength to maim or kill... to soothe or comfort. I have seen his back so many times, but never close enough that my breath ghosting across it could raise gooseflesh. I have to taste it, map out each contour, learn where and how to render him senseless before the onslaught.

My need for him is unquenchable, the more I have the more I must have, this goes beyond the realms of prince and manservant, past friendship and even further than future king and warlock. Last night Arthur submitted to me, threw his head back in surrender and opened himself to me.

Just once was all I ever dreamed for, never quite believing that he would... or even if he could. I suppose it makes sense that maybe ... just maybe he needs to be the one following orders for a change.

I can feel him undulate against me, his back arching into the curves of my body and I can't help it, the rhythmic movement makes my breath catch in my throat and my cock wake, pressed hard against his rear, what's a manservant to do?

"Arthur," I ghost across his ear, "wake up."

"Don'wanna'" comes the sleep slurred words, "Mer'in?" He's starting to wake, I guess it is time to see what the consequences of last night will be.

"Mer'in, you stayed wi' me?"

Ah, if I ever told him how cute he is when he just wakes up, he'd kill me... but still, he is cute, there is no denying that.

"Yes Arthur, I stayed with you." I can't help it, that little boy lost routine just works for me on so many levels and I can't help the sappy smile that makes its way across my face.

"Wha' you smilin' for Mer'in?"

Looking down at him again, I see his head has turned to me, eyes wide awake and a smirk plastered across his face... bastard, he's been bloody playing me. Still two can play this game.

"You Arthur and you know it, why I bother sometimes is beyond me," casting an accusing glare his way.

His eyes have turned softer, hazier, "because I trust you Merlin... because you're you."

Well, what can I say to that?

Words are not what's needed here, time for a more tactile reassurance I think.

Leaning down across his shoulder I capture his bottom lip between my own and gently pull down on it, running my tongue along its delicate surface, feeling the tiny scab that must have formed last night as he bit down his cries.

So many things need to be said, but for now this will suffice.  
I can feel it when the impetus changes in Arthur, from a reassuring gesture to one of need and desire.

"Let me Merlin." His voice is soft and tender, "please... let me."

There is no way I could refuse him, even before this...'us' happened.

Trusting Arthur has never been the problem, if anything the problem has been trusting him too much, but I doubt that I could even really call that a down side.

Feeling him pull away from me is a wrench; the loss of his body heat leaves a chill settling along my front.

"Shhh, please Merlin, let me touch." It is almost worshipful the tones that couch his request, reverent even.

I let my muscles go lax as he gently rolls me over onto my back, one hand of his gently restraining my arms above my head, leaving my chest exposed.

"Merlin." Hushed tone, so much more meaning in the way he says it than in the word itself.

The he speaks no more.

His fingers running softly down my arms and flanks, tracing his fingernails back up the same path, over and over. First one hand then the other, constant, exquisite torture that leaves me shuddering at each touch and mumbling nonsense. It is unbearable and I don't want him to stop, just this simple touch makes me feel more alive than even my magic can do.

Suddenly I feel bereft, his hands have left me, and all that remains is the echo of his touch and the whisper of his breath across my chest. A moan of loss works its way from deep within me as I lament the loss of his touch.  
As quickly as his touch left me, a new sensation replaces it, moist and slightly raspy, his tongue tracing the same route as his fingers had only moments before, first one side then the other; stopping only to twirl the hairs under my arms with his tongue, gently cleaning me... and driving me wild.

"Arthur!" It is a cry, an admonition, a benediction and a plea all rolled into one word. I can't believe he is doing this, but I don't want him to ever stop.

He moves his attentions from my flanks to my chest and neck, his tongue everywhere and anywhere. One moment he is at my nipples, the next he is at my neck, never rushed or hurried, but constantly moving and teasing.

All his ministrations have left me breathless and super-sensitised; a singular nerve ending that encompasses my entire being.

His tongue is now dipping into my belly, the indentation proving irresistible to him. As his tongue delves deep his hands lay to rest on my groin, my cock jumping into his touch, craving it.

"Please?" It is a plea, his voice husky and deep, uncontrolled need winding its way through the word.

Raising myself up on my elbows and looking down, I am faced with the most erotic sight ever. Between my legs, Arthur Pendragon has his hands cupping the base of my cock, leaving the remaining length expose. His head position directly behind it in my line of sight. His eyes are downcast, staring directly at my cock with his tongue wetting his lips in preparation.

"Please Merlin." The naked desire and longing in his voice shatters me.

"Arthur," One word, so many meanings, and Arthur being Arthur understands.

Pulling his hand down slightly exposes my flushed, purple head, leaking at the tip forming a droplet. Reaching the tip of his tongue to the top of my dick, Arthur gently rests his tongue just below the slit letting that droplet roll slowly down onto his tongue. With the same slow deliberateness, Arthur brings his tongue up and over my head, his breath hot and heavy against my straining cock.  
Flicking his eyes up to meet my own, Arthur opens his mouth wider and wraps it around my cock, slowly descending, taking each inch into his gullet, his eyes never straying from mine.

I can feel his tongue wrap around my length as he swallows more and more of me, caressing me, worshipping me. Taking me down as far as he can, Arthur stops for a moment, then gently bobs his head as he makes a low, deep humming sound.

The feeling is indescribable, his throat vibrating around me, his tongue coiled tightly around me, his whole mouth... hot, deep, moist, begging to be taken.

Making my own sound of longing, panting out "more, please Arthur, more" he reaches his arms out to me, gently pulling me fully upright... but he hasn't finished.

Taking one hand at a time, he lifts each one to the top of his head and with his hands still over the top of mine, thrusts his head down hard onto my prick, taking me right down to the root, gagging himself at the same time. Again and again he repeats this, pushing his own hands down on mine, forcing his head further and further down and my cock deeper and deeper.

Over and over he fucks his own throat on my prick, my own cries getting louder and more incoherent as the ends rushes near.

"Arthurarthurarthur." A blinding flash as every nerve in my body is stretched, contracted and spliced. Every muscle in my body contracting, forcing me to curl in on myself as I hold Arthur's head tightly against the base of my groin, every drop of me entering deep down his throat until I am spent and exhausted.

Coming down from that high is no mean feat and I'm positive I have a goofy grin from ear to ear.

"Now that makes two things my father can have us executed for..."

I feel that grin melt off of my face as I ask, "Two things?"

"Yes, two things Merlin, first off; us being sodomites and the second... me for protecting you and you for your magic."

* * *

Chapter 4: Helig Man (Holy Man)

Summary:

The boys finally talk and some answers given

* * *

I feel my face fall and its colour turn ashen, "My magic?"

Arthur's face softens into a gentle smile, "Yes Merlin, your magic."

Pulling me into his arms, our situations reverse, now it is he giving the reassurance and I the one in need of. How could he know, I've tried to be so careful... "but how, how could you have known?"

"Oh Merlin, you admitted it yourself in front of my father to save Gwen; that was what got me thinking that maybe you were a sorcerer, but I knew for sure when we were in Ealdor... I saw you Merlin, it wasn't Will, it wasn't his eyes that flashed or his hand gesturing in the air... it was you. I waited for you to tell me yourself, I thought you were going to on our way back to Camelot, you looked at me so strangely."

Dropping his head for a moment he continues softly, "I thought you and Will..."

"Will and I what?" For someone who thought they were at least not that much of an idiot, I certainly was feeling like one.

Seconds pass as my brain catches up to the conversation and I finally understood what Arthur was obliquely hinting at.

"No, no... Will and I were friends, only friends. I've never done anything like that... at least until last night." My voice strong and firm at the first softened to almost a whisper for the final phrase.

"Arthur? Last night... just before? Are we alright, I mean... are you alright?" My own insecurities are making me stumble my words, what we did together was not just fucking or sleeping together or whatever else you want to call it. I have changed, inside and out and I am sure Arthur has as well.

"I didn't hurt you did I?"

I couldn't bear it if I did, so irresponsible, entering him with no lubrication, almost no preparation. Just taking from him, Jesu I didn't even touch him, pleasure him... all I did was take.

"Merlin, I would not have begrudged you Will, he was a boyhood friend. You know I have been with others... well women, but you... you're the first man I have been with. Don't you see? Even with the execution orders for those caught, I could not have stopped, nor would I have wanted to stop. It is you Merlin, only you."

"Yes, it hurt at first, of course it did, you're not that small you know, but it got better as we went and do you know why?"

Shaking my head dumbly at him, I am at a loss to know why.

"Because I trust you. You Merlin, no other. I knew it would hurt and that it would be unavoidable, but I also knew you wouldn't hurt me on purpose. So in answer to your question; yes I am fine and yes we are good and no the magic is part of you, there is nothing to forgive. And one other thing Merlin... I love you too."

I can feel tears welling as I try to take in exactly what Arthur has said, feeling relief that we are still friends, feeling guilty for causing him any pain, even if he understood; and my magic, the one thing I had always wished I could share with him – he accepts.

Jerking my head up at his last few words, I see how much this has cost him to say, to say first and to do so without dissembling.

"I love you Arthur Pendragon and don't you ever forget it."

A smirk appears on Arthur's face as he replies "You're being a girl again Merlin," and he wraps his arms tighter around me, "and I'll never forget it either."

"Merlin." Arthur's voice barely carries to my ears, even as close as he is, "need you Merlin."

Turning in his arms, I feel the desire running through him; he is literally shaking with want. Raising one hand to his cheek I guide his face down to meet mine. Lips meeting and parting, our soft kisses slowly turning more passionate; tongues twisting together as each tried to probe the other's mouth, exhaled moans being swallowed by the other.

I can feel him harden against my hip and a surge of need sweeps through me, I have to taste him. Pulling away slightly from him garners me a protesting moan, with a silencing kiss, I work my way down past his chest, stopping only to worship his nipples briefly before descending once more to my ultimate prize.

It is surprising just how much bigger a cock looks from this angle, I'm not sure how I am supposed to do this, I know the what, but the how escapes me for the moment. Still Arthur managed to do alright – huh! Alright, more like bloody fantastic job of it – it can't be that hard... surely?

Settling for just mimicking what Arthur did to me, I run a finger up from the base of his balls to the glistening tip. Hearing his moan gives me that little more courage to try the next part. With one hand I cup his straining cock and pull it closer to me, the other hand I settle just below his balls; feeling their weight in the palm of my hand.

Starting from halfway up his cock, I swipe my tongue up and over his prick, treating it like an iced treat, I gently swirl my tongue around the head, just the faintest taste of the liquid hits my taste buds. I can't help it and screw my face up at the taste, bitter and slightly salty, still it is Arthur and for that alone I try again.

Hearing a chuckle from above me, I pause in the act and glance up and what do you think I see? Arthur, smirk in place, but understanding in his eyes.

"It tastes strange at first, but you get used to it after a bit."

Such sage wisdom from he of the headjob royalty, one cock and he thinks he's a master, humph – I'll show him.

With an air of supreme confidence fixed firmly in place I return to the job at hand... or is that mouth?

Deciding to go with a top down approach this time, licking my lips I then gently blow cool air all over the head, watching with relish as he shudders as the cooler air hits his heated skin. This is it; angling my head so that my throat lines up with his cock I ease the tip of his dick into my mouth, slowly closing my lips around it.

Bloody know it all, he's right, the taste isn't that bad once you get used to it.

A heartfelt "Merlin!" pierces the aethers and I grin around his prick, slowly taking more and more of him down my throat I can hear him panting with each movement I make. Taking my other hand that his cupping his balls, I begin to roll them around in my palm, gently tugging them downwards.

Arthur's gasps and cries get louder and louder. Taking my other hand I raise it up to Arthur's mouth, playfully teasing his lips until he takes my finger inside his mouth. Feeling the rhythmic motion against the suction finally clues me in to what I should be doing with his cock.

Mimicking his actions, I hollow my cheeks and slowly start to bob up and down, sometimes getting creative and twisting my mouth at the tip, other times taking him deeper and hold there.

His tongue wraps itself around my finger, coating it in dense spittle. Grasping my hand with his own, he slowly moves the slick finger downwards, down past his chest, his groin and even his balls.

Further down he directs my hand until it settles on his entrance. Stretching his legs further apart and canting his hips slightly forward... he pushes my finger into him.

Oh, how different this is from last night, my finger slips in easily; eliciting a deep moan from Arthur, gently stretching him open, my mouth slipping upwards to concentrate on the tip of his cock.

Feeling him open up further lets me get more adventurous easing another finger into him behind the first one. Gently twisting my hand causes Arthur to cry out.

"MERLIN!"

Alarmed I look up at Arthur, his face is flushed, sweat beading at his brow.

"I didn't say stop you idiot, more, MORE!"

Chuckling, "Only if you're sure Sire," I breathe a sigh of relief, I was afraid I had hurt him.

"Prat."

Taking the time to move my fingers inside him again, I see that I had no need to worry, his body trembles with the slightest touch, his moans from deep inside him.

Grabbing my leg, he urges me to turn around, to lay down facing him. Pulling at my waist I finally catch on to what he wants and align myself so we are top and tailing each other. His mouth quickly latches onto my cock, which I feel has been sadly neglected, pulling a grunt from me and a sigh from him.

Sucking noisily on my cock, Arthur works quickly to slather his spit onto it and after his little demonstration earlier with my finger I know what he wants.

Easing in a third finger I search for that spot that made him cry out before. His hips buck uncontrollably and his cock thrums in time with his heart beat. I know he is close, I have to be inside when he goes over.

"Arthur, I need... inside you... now."

I can barely form a coherent sentence I am so aroused.

Pulling his head off of my cock with a final slurp, he raises his legs as I try to get behind him without getting caught up in the tangle of limbs.

Finally behind him, I watch as I see his entrance pulsate, soft pink flesh inviting me in. Lining my cock up with his hole is another exercise in dexterity as my excitement ratchets up another notch.

Pushing inside Arthur is like coming home, soft and welcoming as I ease inside him fully, so much easier than last night. Now it feels so much more intense, face to face we look into each other's eyes as I set up a long, languorous rhythm.

Now is not the time for rushed and forced, as much as we both may want it, now is for both of us.

Seeing Arthur writhe on the end of my dick is an experience unlike no other, his cock hard and proud, not even being touched, it still shows Arthur's pleasure at this.

Minutes pass, or it could have been hours, both of us slowly drawing out the pleasure from each other's body. Soon, all too soon, I feel that tightness in my balls and I know that I can't hold out for much longer.

"Arthur!" I beseech, "Please. Please"

I know he heard me, but just as I feel my control falter his arse convulses around my cock, his own release hitting him just before my own. Unable to withstand the sensations around my cock, I follow him over the edge into the abyss.

* * *

Chapter 5: Aldrig som Främlingar (Never as Strangers)

Summary:

Rome meets Camelot

* * *

"Arthur, come on... your father is expecting you for court shortly."

Regardless of what Arthur and I now are... some things will never change. Arthur's distaste for court and the formal presentations of ambassadors is high on that list... Still, he looks good when dressed in the formal court attire.

"Merlin... why don't we just go hunting, or go out for a ride somewhere?" Arthur's leer is obvious in his voice and as tempted as I am – believe me when I say just how tempted I am – there is no choice in the matter, Uther's 'request' that Arthur be there was emphatic in the least.

"Arthur, you have no choice, your father told you point blank that you must attend. The representative from Gwynedd is being presented as well as someone from the Christers." My distaste for the latter is abundantly evident as I snarl out his affiliation.

Arthur's appreciative smile lights the room for a moment then fades away as he adds, "he may be from the Christers Merlin, but he is not just someone. From what my father told me the other night, this representative is the personal envoy of Pope Symmachus... something is afoot Merlin, the Papacy never sends their personal staff on general envoy missions. It has my father concerned and if he is concerned... then something is about to happen."

I sigh softly to myself, knowing he is right and hating every second of it, I know that if something is going to happen, it will happen to Arthur... It always does.

Taking my hand in his, he pulls me towards him and wraps his other arm around me.

"Come Merlin, I need to bathe and change, as you said, I have to be there soon."

Giving me a sideways look; I see a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, as if he is unsure how to continue.

"Merlin, could you... you know?" Waving his hand in the air and wiggling his fingers, I get the gist of what he means.

"You want me to magic you up a bath then Sire? Are you sure, that Prestor may already be here?"

"Then let them be here, this is my personal chamber and they have no say in what happens inside these walls."

I am a little surprised at the venom injected into his words, these and his earlier words about the eminence of the visitor to Camelot leave an uneasy feeling in my gut.

As this will be the first magic of note I have performed in front of Arthur... that he knows of anyway. I think I went a little overboard with the theatrics as the look on his face went from scorn to outright laughter. Still at least the laughter was much better than that bleak look he had before.

"Your bath awaits you Sire." I reply with as courtly a tone as I possess, "this way now."

I can't help myself as I gaze upon Arthur's form as he reclines in the bath, when this evening's feast in concluded I intend to map every contour of his body, know every subtle variance in flavour as I work him into oblivion.

"Merlin, thinking happy thoughts there are you?" Arthur's tone conveys his amusement.

Looking down I can see that my thoughts have indeed been 'happy' if the tenting in my breeches is anything to go by.

"Later Sire, just saving it for later."

The heat from his look practically sears me with its intensity and makes me shudder with want.

"Enough, I have to go play prince, as you said... later." This is said with a certain amount of regret and a large amount of want.  
As he rises from his bath, I can see he is in a similar state to me, swallowing my desire I hold up his under tunic ready for him as he climbs out of the bath and begins to dry himself off.

You would be surprised how long it takes to dress someone in formal attire, there are more layers than are practical and each and every layer becomes more and more elaborate. With the amount of ties and threading... plus of course the mandatory fondling, we just manage to finish with only enough time for Arthur to hurry out of his chamber and downstairs into the Throne Room.

Just as he is about to open his chamber door, Arthur stops for a moment and turns and looks straight at me.

His demeanour is determined, his posture erect, but there is something slightly off in his eyes and I can't place it.

So softly that I almost miss it he says, "Remember Merlin... later." And without looking back leaves his chamber.

It is only later that I recognise what was off, Arthur was afraid.

Looking about the Great Hall from my position behind Arthur, I can see that this is not a normal feast; it is quieter, more subdued... and it worries me. It worries me that Arthur will not look directly at me; it worries me that his place on the right hand side of King Uther has been usurped by a Prestor... The Prestor.

My attention is drawn back to my prince as he gestures for yet another refill of his wine. As I stoop to pour his wine I hear him whisper into my ear.

"Soon, be ready soon... there are things we must talk about."

A chill runs down my spine as I manage to nod deferentially and withdraw to my place. Before Arthur was afraid, now it is I who is. It has to do with this Prestor, I know it.

Running through my limited knowledge of the Christers I try to ascertain what the problem could be. I know that magic is seen as evil, as a worship of the deity named Luficer. I also know that what Arthur and I share is considered in the same vein... both punishable with death.

I don't fear for myself, worst case I could escape, but Arthur... Arthur would have to remain here. He is the son of a king; he is to be the next king. They wouldn't ... would they?

Never has my ignorance frustrated me more than now. For all the things I do know mean naught compared to what I need to know now, you hear rumours about the Christers; frightening rumours, but who is to say they are true?

For all I know they could simply be tales told to frighten children into behaving... or... or they could be the unvarnished truth.

Round and round these thoughts go within my mind until at last my prince saves me from myself by the simple expedient of grabbing my arm and dragging me away.

We are silent as we make our way up to Arthur's chambers... It is not a comfortable silence.

Even as the chamber door is unlocked and I am pushed inside, we are both silent and I then I know that this can't be good.

"Arthur?" I dare not speak above a whisper, "what's going on?"

Finally looking at me Arthur begins, "The Prestor has asked for permission to set up a bishopric within Camelot's borders. Furthermore, it has been deemed by my father and Pope Symmachus that the royal family shall henceforth be deemed as Christers and are to be baptised as in the manner of their religion."

Arthur's voice is blunt and to the point, but his anger shines through every syllable he says.

"It has also been decided that I am to be educated in their religion and all of its practises and finally... it has been decreed that this Prestor be given a seat as an advisor to both myself and my father."

"Why...when...how?" I'm not sure I want to know, but I have to ask.

"How is simple Merlin, my father has agreed to it." Arthur all but snaps at me.

"As for when...it will be formally announced at the next formal court sitting, effective immediately."

"And as for why?" I ask quietly.

"As for why," Arthur reaches over and pulls me close to him and continues in barely a whisper, "why is because of my father's rigid beliefs regarding two things Merlin... magic and sodomites."

Fear paralyses me as Arthur's words sink in; clinging to Arthur is all I am capable of.

"If they find out, they will kill you Merlin... and I can't allow that, but I am weak." Arthur's voice breaks as he speaks this last.

"Weak?" Is all I can manage in reply.

"Yes, weak... I've only just got you... I can't send you away... I'm not strong enough to."

And with that his tears start.

Gently guiding him to the bed, my arms locked around him. I lay us down and whisper to him, "I wouldn't go anyway."

And my tears join his on the pillow.

* * *

Chapter 6: Genom ett Krossat Fönster (Through a Broken Window)

Summary:

Merlin frets in the night while Arthur plans the next few days

* * *

Looking at him lying there, the pale moonlight from the window illuminating him with almost an ethereal glow, it seems difficult to believe the troubles that weigh on his shoulders... he looks so peaceful.

I suppose he has enough to worry about, if I could shoulder even a few of the burdens to ease the load he carries... but I can't. He must live with the knowledge same as I do... and for the same reasons.

One day ago if you had asked me if my life could have gotten any better, I would have told you that there was no possible way it could... now it seems that the only way it could get any worse would be to lose Arthur.

I'll admit that I'm worried and not just because of the Prestor. Arthur lives with so many expectations that it is a wonder he doesn't break from them all. Uther is hard on him, as he should be, Arthur is part of a legacy as old as time.

The art of Kingship is one very few may hope to understand and even fewer can master. It is ironic that a King must spend their life rearing and educating the heir only to die before they may see the results. On the flip side, the heir must lose his parent before their life's work may truly begin. It is a savage irony here that Arthur may never be king if the Prestor discovers our secrets first.

Arthur once told me '... diplomacy is one part truth and nine parts obfuscation... and being able to know the difference yourself.' The Church of Rome will make a powerful ally, but also a deadly adversary if things don't go their way.

All this worry for something I was born with and something as simple as love. I can see this will all end in tears one way or another... it already has and the board has only just been set for play.

The only problem is... who makes the first move?

I knew it wouldn't last, Arthur already grows restless in his sleep... he would be surprised to discover that I have watched him sleep many a time. It seems to be the only time he does relax enough that the furrow in the middle of his brow disappears.

I want to go to him and hold him safe against everything I can, but regardless of what Arthur and I are to one another... there are some things that must be faced alone and there are some things we can face together... although it seems to be more of the former than of the later.

Time may pass, battles won and lost, but this is the time that we can look back on as being purely ours alone. These early mornings and late nights are the only times when Arthur and I can be ourselves... a few stolen hours amongst the many of the day.

A faint pink suffuses the room heralding the beginning of a new day and signalling the end of our time. Always the dawn of a new day must bring the end of ours.

"Merlin, are my hunting leathers cleaned?"

"They should be Sire; will you be wanting them today?" I sigh to myself, I'll never understand Arthur's fascination with hunting, or the need to drag me along each and every time.

"Yes, you'll also need to go to the kitchens and get enough food to last us for two days and nights... oh and Merlin, see if you can grab a bottle or two of that mead from the other night as well."

I feel my eyebrow arch as I look directly at Arthur who at least has the grace to look caught out, "will you be requiring anything else then; maybe some oil to polish your sword with."

It is only a random innuendo, but manages to make Arthur blush... a rather appealing look on him if I do say.

"Enough of your cheek Merlin... but pack some... just in case."

A fiery blush staining his cheeks like a maiden and the stutter just turns Prince Prat into a hopeful puppy and I deny anyone to be able to refuse him.

Hmmm, maybe this hunting lark won't be so bad after all.

We have ridden for several hours and my earlier opinion that hunting wouldn't be so bad has been drastically changed to something along the lines of 'Kill Arthur, kill Arthur'. I am sure I'll have bruises along my rump for days, this bloody horse does NOT know the definition of trot; no, he only knows two speeds, stop and charge.

"Merlin, quit your complaining, you don't see me whining and bemoaning my fate."

Bloody smart arse, just because he was born in a saddle, doesn't mean the rest of us were.

"You try hanging on when your ride decides to buck and throw you every few minutes. See how you like it."

Another classic Merlin example of open mouth, insert foot... or some other appendage as Arthur's face goes crimson yet again.

"Promises, promises Merlin... later."

The look he sends me would char the meat on a cow as I realise exactly how Arthur had taken what I had said. Great, now I have to ride with a bruised arse and a cock you could run a pennon up.

"I don't suppose we could stop just here could we." I ask weakly as visions of Arthur straddling my thighs as he rides my aching prick all the way to oblivion assail my very being.

With something between a smartarse smirk and a horny gulp, Arthur's hand goes to his crotch and I can see the need roiling off of him in waves.

"Soon Merlin, soon."

Oh-ho, methinks Arthur knows exactly what he is doing to me, but it is nice to know he's suffering for it as well.

It turns out that Arthur's definition of soon and mine weren't even close to each other as for another two hours we rode along the trail before Arthur turned off to follow a little game trail.

"Not far now, keep up."

Bloody sanctimonious git, just he wait until I get my hands on him, he'll get the fucking of his life and then a few more times just so the message sinks in.

We finally arrive at a deserted hunting lodge, the shutters on one of the windows half broken off and hanging precariously on its last hinge.

"We can stay here tonight Merlin, help me bring in the packs and light a fire; then we can get more comfortable."

Have you ever tried to dismount a horse that stands over 17 hands tall when you have the mother of all problems sticking up past the top of your breeches? I can tell you now, not a pleasant experience, no matter what you do; you end up squashing yourself in a rather painful way.

With the packs brought inside and a fire blazing merrily away actually take the time to look around the old lodge. Old, threadbare tapestries hang crookedly along the main wall, a well aged oak table and rickety chairs line the back wall and a surprisingly comfortable looking sleeping pallet nestled between the fire and the side wall.

Looking first at the pallet then to Arthur I ask, "Something here doesn't quite fit the rest of the ambiance, any guesses as to what?"

I emphasise my point by dropping heavily onto the sinfully soft pallet.

"Something I should know is there Arthur?"

Dropping his head and shuffling his foot in the dirt Arthur manages to mumble something.

"Sorry, missed that, would you like to try that again in a language we can both understand?" I love to play Arthur like this; it is so easy to get him to bite.

"I said, I had Sir Owain and Sir Perrinore come out here a yesterday and set everything up... I thought it would be nice to have a couple of days away." His voice trailed off at this.

"Yes, but you had two of your knights make up a pallet big enough for two, then when only you and I left this castle this morning. Arthur, it will be all over the castle you prat!"

"Give me some credit Merlin, I know what I'm doing."

Thinking about this, I have to concede that although he may be a prat, he's not a stupid one.

"Think about it Merlin, why would I have two of my most trusted knights do this for me. It is not as if both Owain and Perrinore are close to each other or anything and it certainly not as if maybe that it was done also as an escape for them. Is your tiny sorcerer's brain managing to add one and one yet?"

"Oh." Understanding finally sets in.

"Yes Merlin, oh."

Walking up to Arthur I venture a hand upon his shoulder, "I'm sorry Arthur, I should have known better. It's just these Christers that have me worried sick for you."

Placing his hand over mine and gently squeezing it. "I know Merlin and to be honest, I am scared for you as well."

Trying to lighten the mood a little I quip out, "Still, Owain and Perrinore? I need to scrub my eyes clean."

"Funny, that's what they said about us you know." Arthur said with a grin, "they couldn't believe that, that... that you would want me." Arthur's voice is soft, and questioning.

Turning Arthur around I pull him in close to me and whisper over his lips, "Of course I want you.", before closing the space between us and finally kissing him for the first time since early this morning.  
Seeing his blonde hair mussed and his lips bruised and swollen from kissing is a heady sight, his breath coming in ragged gasps and his body quivering with lust.

"Merlin... fuck me."

Three words, three tiny words, but tiny words or not they tell me exactly how things are going to be for this evening.

"Later Arthur, first...Suck me." My voice is hoarse and honey mead, as I guide his head down to my crotch, holding him in place as I grind my covered cock into his face.

"Merlin." Arthur's groan resonates through us both as I force his face harder and harder against my prick.

His mouth, rough against my breeches, soon soak the fabric and my cock get's slowly moister as he runs his mouth along my full length.

I curse the day that made homespun linen the standard for breeches, the rough fabric adding its own kind of torture to my already over sensitised prick.

Gasping for breath myself, i barely manage to pull his head from my crotch, "Strip." Letting my eyes glow for a second as I issue the command, reining back the power that wants to be let free.

Watching Arthur's own eyes dilate even further as my power loosely wraps around that one word, not quite a command and not quite a compulsion, but making it something that cannot be denied.

Moving backwards towards the pallet, I indicate that Arthur should stand before me and wait.

Lying back onto the pallet I raise myself on my elbows and stare at Arthur through heavy lidded eyes.

"Strip... slowly."

And that is all it takes, Arthur's eyes jerk upwards to meet my own, his fingers on the first tie of his jacket. Self-consciously at first he runs his fingers lightly across his chest, lightly sighing at the pleasure his gives himself.

Ever so slowly his fingers work all the ties of his jacket undone; one hand disappears beneath the lapel to worry a nipple, his face flushed as tiny bolts of pain and pleasure surge down to his cock. His other hand pushing the jacket off one shoulder before letting both arms drop to his side and shrugging the garment from him.

My eyes never leave his, my hand slowly palming myself through my damp breeches as I watch the Prince of Camelot seduce me with his body.

His tunic is undone now, letting a thin strip of flesh show from behind the fabric, pale gold skin with a fine scattering of slightly darker hair plastered back from the sweat. Taking both his hands and scraping his nails along the insides of his thigh, upwards until they pass his breeches and still not stopping, slowly part his tunic leaving the evidence of their passing with red welts vivid on his skin.

I can see him gulping down air as his throat bobs involuntarily, the outline of his cock, showing clearly on his breeches. Reaching his arms over his head and grasping the yoke behind I see his muscles tense and bulge as he grips the fabric tightly, sweat beads on his brow as a loud renting sound can be heard and the tunic rips down from the back of his neckline until only his shoulders hold the pieces up.

Going down to his knees before me, Arthur offers me one side of the front of his tunic and with a smooth motion leans backwards as my grip slowly pulls the offending piece of fabric from his body.

Drawing his nails along his chest, Arthur's claws against his skin leaving more raised welts... leaving my throat parched. There must be some god out there, maybe the god of idiots I don't know, but whoever it is, I thank them.

Unlacing the front of his breeches, Arthur lets the front flaps fall open, leaving a dark gold trail leading down to where his cock lies, hard and heavy... and waiting for me.

Standing up he turns around, his hands on the waistband of his breeches, ever so slowly dragging them down past his hips, his thighs, his calves... until they pool at his feet on the ground

Turning around once more to face me, his eyes heavy, chest heaving and his cock jerking in time to his heartbeat... mine, he is all mine.

Yanking my own breeches down with much less finesse or care, I wrap one hand around my cock and let the other hand fondle my balls. Looking up at him, he's transfixed, his eyes following the slow path my hand makes up and down my length.

With a throatily groaned "Suck me." He is back on his knees in front of me, lips wrapped around my shaft and a look of sheer bliss in his eyes.

I can't take much of this, all day I have been so aroused and his strip show almost was the end of me. Reaching under the furs, I pull out a vial of oil and place it on my chest, directly in Arthurs line of sight.

The moan he lets out as his eyes alight on the vial and as his head sinks to the base of my cock should have made be explode there and then. Holding on tightly to what was left of my control I growl out, "Prepare yourself for me."

There is no denying his answering moan was anything but willing. Reaching for the vial, he opens it and pours some onto his fingers.

Looking directly into my eyes, he reaches back and slowly begins to open himself up, fucking himself on his fingers, his eyes glued to mine.

Dropping his head next to my crotch, I see him arch his back into his fingers, forcing them deeper inside of him, stretching him wider.

Unable to watch any longer I grunt out to him, "Sit of my prick." Hard and guttural, I need this, I need to be inside him now.

Slowly crawling his way up to my cock, Arthur swoops in with his lips and steals the lightest of touches against my own, the touch searing for all its brevity.

Straddling my hips, I watch as he lines my cock up with his hole and I watch in fascination as he slowly sinks down on it, my name wordlessly on his lips as his arse takes every inch till his he seated on me.

He is so hot around me, I can feel his muscles clenching and relaxing around me, milking me. Rolling his hips and arching his back he beings to screw himself on me, each time angling himself to hit that spot inside him, the one that makes him see stars and the one that makes me feel invincible.

Neither of us can last long like this; we have both been on slow burn all day. Watch as he grasps his cock and strokes himself to match the cadence of his riding me is inexplicably hot. I can feel his tempo change as he draws closer, slamming himself down onto me, only to lift up and slam down harder again.

His eyes are glues to mine, his yell comes deep from inside him as I feel him release all over my chest, my neck and my face. His lips mouthing 'I love you' as my own release hits as his arse muscles ripple all over my cock, milking me dry.

Unable to speak, we remain as we were, me embedded inside him, him being cradled in my arms along my chest, the last thing I see is a shadow moving past that broken shutter as my mind shuts down and sleep takes over.

* * *

Chapter 7: Hur kan du Lova Mig? (How can you Promise me?)

Summary:

For God sees through our lies and into our hearts and sometimes love will cause you to hurt and others it will cause you to heal.

* * *

Standing there transfixed, Claudius beheld the union before him, the abhorrent nature of the act seared into his brain, even as he mouthed the protective psalm that would allow him safe passage to The Heavenly Father.

Claudius had no idea of the participant's identity; to him it was one and the same be it crofter or be it prince. He knew he must return to the abbey and inform Brother Alfonso... but there was something there which held him rooted to the spot. The one abasing himself before the other, his eyes, they were... at peace, the same kind of peace and contentment he himself felt by the benediction of Our Father.

As doubt begins to cloud his mind, Claudius flees.

My legs have no feeling left in them and it is the absence of that feeling that wakens me.

Yes, still in the same position as we fell asleep in, the only difference is that Merlin has rolled us onto his side, my leg trapped under his body and my other one twisted around his.

Smiling to myself, I can still feel Merlin inside me, much smaller, but still there inside me... where he belongs.

His skin in the moonlight seems preternaturally pale, almost translucent, but it is that very same translucence that allows his heart to glow from within. What that boy... man can do to me, I doubt I could deny him anything were he to ask it; and it is to his credit that he does not.

I know he used magic last night, but it was such a soft and welcoming thing, neither harsh nor emphatic, only gently guiding me to do his bidding... as if I needed the encouragement.

Until two nights prior, Merlin was my friend first, my manservant second. Since that time though, Merlin has become my lover and all that entails. I find I no longer want him to much out the stables, or to fetch my bathwater, instead I find I want him nearby; I want to be able to discuss the management of the kingdom with him... I want to grow old with him and I want to die with him.

Shaking my head for the folly of my thoughts, Arthur Pendragon always gets what he wants... except for the things that really make a difference. My duty is to Camelot, but my heart lies only a foot away... snoring.

Well, that at least can be fixed; I remember the other night when he teased my nipples... I thought only women could feel pleasure from that, but for once I was glad to be proven wrong.

Rolling us both back up until he is back on his back takes some doing.

Leaning back down so my head is just hovering above his nipple, sparse, fine black hair dotting the perimeter, I gently lick it, coating it with my spittle, blowing against it sees instant results. His nipple hardens into a tight nub; licking again earns me a mumble from Merlin.

I can also feel something happening to his cock as well, a slow filling sensation, ever so slightly stretching me again as he slowly becomes fully hard inside my arse.

"Arth'r." Comes the mumbled response and a slow roll of his hips, pushing more of him inside me.

It's not enough and it's too much all at once, that gentle motion is already beginning to drive me insane. I want to heave my hips forward and come back down hard, force him deeper and deeper inside me, but at the same time, I want this to last forever.

Licking his other nipple only encourages him more as his thrusts become a little harder, his cock gliding against that spot, making me grow harder with each thrust. I want him to wake so he can take my lips and part them with his tongue. I want his tongue to delve deep inside my mouth just as his cock is doing to my arse.

And that's when I see it, a faint grin make its way across his face, his eyebrows rising minutely and his breathing changing. I know now that I can lean into his lips and take the kiss I need.

He must sense when I am almost there, his lips part sensuously, the tip of his tongue protruding slightly and I am only a man. Leaning down that last fraction I open my mouth slightly and take him in.

Merlin kisses like he fucks, soft and gentle, deep and strong or a combination of them all. His tongue deep inside my mouth, ravaging it, his cock barely moving to and fro, the juxtaposition is enough to make me come apart at the seams as I raise my head and force myself down hard onto his prick.

"Arthur" Merlin's throaty moan protests, but I don't want to listen, the constant ramming into me taking me over.

Suddenly it all stops.

His arms lifting me off of his cock and his head turned from me. His eyes though are still locked onto mine... and his show disappointment as well as a hint of challenge.

"Why?" That's all I have to ask.

"Because I can." And that's all he has to say.

Stalemate.

"Do you trust me?" He asks, never doubting the answer, but wanting to hear it anyway.

"You know I do."

A feral look flashes across his face before disappearing again.

"Go lie on the table Arthur."

I wait for the flash of his eyes, but there is nothing; it seems this is the real test of trust. Slowly making my way to my feet, my legs unstable as the blood flows back into them, I stagger slightly to the table and clamber on top of it.

It is too short for me to lie on it full length, either my head must hang over... or my knees do... or both.

"One more time Arthur... do you trust me?" Implacable.

Closing my eyes and tilting my head back I answer, "I trust you Merlin," and I await my fate.

I can hear water being poured into the basin and I can hear Merlin searching in the packs. A few minutes pass and Merlin stands before me. I know he is there, just above my head, I can sense it.

"Open your eyes Arthur, I want you to see what I am going to do to you." His voice mild, but expectant.

Opening my eyes allows me to see Merlin, naked and wet, he must have cleaned himself off.

"I am going to tie you down to the table Arthur, then I am going to fuck your throat and if you behave, I'll then fuck your arse." Simple words, even more simply spoken, a statement of fact... which we both know they are.

In his hands are lengths of rope. Another flash of his eyes and each length moves towards each corner of the table.

"Arthur, by placing your hands and feet at the corners of the table you are agreeing to this, there is neither harm nor fault for you not doing this... but I would like you to try, for me."

Oh Jesu, it is not fear that prevents me, it is sheer desire. He must be able to see my prick standing upright; nevertheless I take a deep breath and place my left hand on the corner top of the table.

Quickly the rope ties my wrist down to the table leg, not overly tight, but not much give either.

Looking directly into Merlin's eyes, I position my other hand and both feet at their respective corners and as quickly as the first, they are tied down with limited movement available.

Leaning down over me, his cock just above my head, his hands splayed out over each nipple. I reach my tongue out to lap at the head of his cock, to tease his weeping slit, to taste Merlin.

A needy moan breaks free from him as he drops his hips lower so I can take him in my mouth. His hands kneading my chest, his mouth whispering my name. Taking his prick further into my mouth, I wrap my tongue around his sensitive tip, tipping my head back further... urging him deeper.

Harder and harder his hips thrust into me, forcing me to take more and more of him; his hands roughly twisting my nipples, tearing out any chest hairs that get caught in his grip. The pain that is there is inconsequential as his murmurs begin to form clear words.

"Promise me, promise me, promise me." It is almost a chant.

He knows I can't answer him, but it makes little difference, this is something he needs to get out of his system before we head back to Camelot.

Head backwards with your manservant's/friend's/lover's cock deep in your throat can sometimes give you unexpected insights; he wants me to promise him the impossible and he knows that I can't, but still he asks.

Merlin's litany continues, louder and louder and rougher and rougher. Tears are falling from his eyes as he asks over and over to promise him.

With a final thrust, Merlin's seed is forced down my throat and his tears flow with the same speed.

My heart weeps with him as the one thing I cannot promise is that everything will be fine, he knows this and I know this; but still he needs that safety.

I feel the ropes loosen and drop to the ground as his control shatters and I find myself with an armful of Merlin howling his fears into my shoulder and all I can do is lie.

"I promise Merlin, I promise."

Over and over again I repeat it until his breathing slows and his tears cease.

"You're lying." He says to me, "but thank you anyway."

It is a bittersweet victory, Merlin knows that nothing is safe, but he trusts me to protect him as much as I trust Merlin to protect me.

As I said, sometimes the strangest things will cause you to see clearer and further than you ever could before.

Claudius restlessly tossed on his pallet, guilt gnawing at him, keeping him from the sleep of the truly faithful as his mind warred with his heart.

* * *

Chapter 8: Tillbaks Igen (Back Again)

Summary:

Merlin and Arthur while away the time, secluded in their lodge, but the new Archbishop of Brittany has Uther's ear and some information that will destroy both mens happiness

* * *

"Brother Claudius, you absented yourself from both Compline and Vigils last evening, was there any reason for this?" Brother Alfonso's kindly face reducing the sting from the rebuke.

"Last evening past, I was walking in contemplation of our most holy father, when my feet took me in a direction unfamiliar to me. Trusting in the guidance of our lord, I happened upon a hunting lodge with horses corralled alongside."

Taking a deep breath he continues uncertainly, "On approaching the abode I paused and glanced through the shuttered window and witnessed... witnessed an unspeakable act."

Shame and mortification spreading through him as the memory assailed him yet again, taunting him... teasing him.

Mistaking his flush for embarrassment Brother Alfonso prompted, "Which act do you refer to Claudio", in the hope the use of his familiar name would calm the man beside him.

Claudius jerked back, as if the words themselves burnt him, his face turning dark. Gathering his righteous anger around him as one would a cloak, "Sodomy, two of the vaunted knights of Camelot together in evil congress. An abomination within the eyes of our lord and an affront to all decent peoples."

Trying to control the roiling motion of his stomach, Claudius inhaled deeply, vainly trying to stem the tide of shame assaulting him; he had saw, he had watched every movement the blonde knight made... Claudius coveted that feeling of contentment and bliss. Willing the bile down and the shame from his cheeks he waited for his superior's view.

Brother Alfonso had his eyes pressed tightly shut as his own opinions and his church's collided. "We must inform His Eminence of this, it is beyond the authority of this abbey to condemn any of the nobility of this realm."

Sighing to himself, Alfonso wished yet again for a relaxation from the onerous strictures imposed by Rome... imposed by, but certainly not followed by Alfonso thought viscously, a rule for others, not a rule for themselves.

"Come Claudius, we must prepare to journey to Camelot, His Eminence is currently there in anticipation of an advisory role to King Uther."

Without waiting for his underling to follow, Alfonso turns his back and makes his way slowly out to the stables, his head low and his heart heavy.

Waking up has never felt as pleasant as I worm deeper into Arthur's arms and snuffle into his chest. Spying the table out of the corner of my eye my joy turns sour as I recall the events of the previous evening.

Everything was great... until I saw Arthur willingly allowing himself to be restrained to the table, it was then I realised just what exactly Arthur would do for me, to try and protect me... at the cost of us.

An unacceptable cost in my mind.

It was then I think I lost it, instead of a hard, intense fuck, I ended up crying all over him, what he must think of me now... I don't know.

The last thing I remember was calling him a liar and falling asleep, wrapped in his arms on the table. Well the wrapped in his arms part is right, but he must have moved us from the table at some point last night, although I am surprised... as much as Arthur says I am as thin as a stick, I know I am not that light.

Arching into Arthur's embrace and wrapping my arms tightly around him earns me a good morning grunt from the pratly one and a much nicer hello from down below. Deigning to ignore the prat and instead pay some attention to the emphatically happy to see me member down below is only fair I decide as I slither down Arthur's chest and legs and place myself 'eye to eye' with the much nicer version of the Pendragon head.

Gently letting my morning's stubble rasp along Arthur's length, slowly up and down, teasing his head from its hood. His morning scent wafts heavily around his prick and balls, masculine and musky, that quintessential odour of men.

Running my head back down to the base of his shaft, I nudge his prick away and concentrate my attentions on the crease of hip and thigh. A long smooth glide of the tongue followed up by nibbles and slurps; forcing his legs apart I tongue further down to his balls.

Taking each in turn in my mouth, rolling them from side to side with my tongue, before taking both at once and sucking forcefully before pulling my head away as Arthur's moans become louder and more insistent. Letting his balls fall wetly from my mouth, I grasp them with my hand and hold them above, exposing that sensitive area behind them... leaning down further I swipe viscously there; savage swipes of the tongue and sharp bites with my teeth, before gentling the area with my tongue then repeating it all over again.

Further down my tongue quests, looking for his hole and the tender tissues surrounding it and taking a deep breath I dive my tongue straight into his hole, still slightly loosened from the previous night. A raw, earthy taste, tender flesh quivering as I lap at his hole. Firming my tongue I push deeper and deeper into him, his cries at fever pitch, and his head thrashing to and fro.

Grasping him by his legs I pull him forward so my knees hit his arse, lifting both legs up, I bring his arse forwards and upwards giving me better access to him. Bringing both hands to either arse cheek I pull them aside, exposing his hole further and dive back in slathering it in spit and fucking him with my tongue.

His prick, heavy and flushed dark, straining upwards and gently throbbing in time to his heart beat, tip glistening and his balls tight... he's close, only a little more and he'll go off. Taking two fingers I moisten them in my mouth and push them into him deeply. Arching one finger upwards until I find that spot inside him, his deep moan telling when I hit it and then I keep stroking it... over and over.

His release when it hits is a sight to see, his arse clamping down hard on my fingers, his balls drawn up high and tight and his cock shooting his seed in rope like streams over his chest and even some onto his face.

Ignoring the ache within my own breeches, I let Arthur's legs fall and make my way to his flushed face. His seed has landed all over his chin and his nose. Leaning in I lap at the wetness there, cleaning him until there is nothing more to be had until I open his lips and force my tongue into his mouth, letting him taste himself on me; his seed mingled with the earthy taste of his hole and the sounds of his deep moans as he tastes himself for the first time are indescribable; dirty, filthy noises that demand more.

"You are such a slattern Arthur... and I love it", my voice still husky and rough.

"We should start packing and get ready to leave."

My disappointment that our time is over for now is strong, but I am still thankful we had this time together at all, "thank you for this Arthur, for this time and for last night... I don't think you realise how badly I needed to escape Camelot; even just for a few days."

"You'd be surprised just how well I do understand Merlin, why do you think I take you hunting all the time... it lets me escape and lets me talk to you as Arthur, not as the Prince." His voice is soft and serious, slightly coloured with affection and laced throughout with care. It is not often he lets this side of himself out and I am glad today of all days he has let it do so.

"But first, we need to clean ourselves up... any suggestions?" Minx, still raring for another round... I'd love to, but that feeling from this morning is only getting stronger the longer we are away from the castle.

Cleaning ourselves is only a matter of willing it done and with a flare of gold we are clean, dressed and ready to set off.

Arthur's face is a sight to see though, his bottom lip sticking out and his eyes puppy soft... that face would tempt anyone, but we must go.

"Stop pouting Arthur, it looks ridiculous on you." Hehe who said I wasn't a good liar?

"Could you identify them again if you were to see them?"

His face is sharp and angular, a long crooked nose and thin lips, permanently set into a sneer, it is a cruel face, not one that a favourite of Rome would be thought to have, but...

"Ye... Yes Your Eminence. I am sure I could if I was to see them again." Brother Claudius stammered nervously, after all, this man was second only to his Holiness Pope Symmachus I.

"Tonight then at the feast, you shall both attend me and you will identify these knights, we shall then see if Uther is a pious as he claims when two of his vaunted knights are to be put to death."

Neither man before him could mistake the distaste and resentment behind their superior's voice, Archbishop Benedict of Brittany had finally come into full flower and both men realised just how dangerous that was.

Notes:

The Liturgy of the Hours as Practised in Medieval Brittany circa 480 – 585AD  
Matins (at sunrise)  
Prime (during the first hour of daylight)  
Terce (at the third hour)  
Sext (at the sixth hour)  
None (at the ninth hour)  
Vespers (at the end of the day)  
Compline (upon retiring)  
Vigils (sometime during the night)

* * *

Chapter 9: Kött och Blod (Flesh and Blood)

Summary:

Excrement is well and truly distributed by an aeration device and the castle gardens get some fresh fertiliser.

Notes:

WARNING: Character Deaths (non major characters)

* * *

His Eminence, Benedict, The Archbishop of Brittany, sits alone in his chambers, his formal gowns of office placed reverently on the bed before him. In his hands a blooded knout, dripping onto the floor; his shift a tattered mess with the blood slowly congealing. His back a mass of scars; some old, some new... and some still raw enough that the blood still flowed.

He felt clean again, his body and soul purged of sin in the fashion of Christ. Stripping off his shift Benedict welcomes the pain from his abused back; stepping into the frigid bath he cleanses his external body with the minimal of touching.

His robes donned, he turns his back and exits the austere room.

"Arthur, let me go you great oaf!" The git has picked me up again, not that I mind, but he's just gotten out of the bath and he is soaking wet.

"Merlin, Merlin, Merlin, I promised I would never let you go", comes the sing song reply.

I can't help the sappy grin, "Now who's the girl Arthur?"

Pointed silence is the only response I get as Arthur lets me down to the ground. Twisting in his arms I am faced with an unexpectedly sombre expression.

"That's just it Merlin, if you were and girl... or if I was... we could be happy together and safe... at least as safe as a magic user could be, but at least we wouldn't have 'THIS' hanging over our head", the fear in his voice scares me more than his words, and they alone terrify me.

"But neither of us is a girl Arthur." Spoken so softly it is barely a whisper, "but you are still my Arthur and I am still your Merlin... that is all that matters."

Grasping his chin firmly, I tilt his head upwards to look directly into my eyes, "I wouldn't change anything Arthur... anything."

His eyes are so soft, people forget how easily Arthur hides himself behind his princely persona, but if you know what to look for his will tell you everything... and I know what they are telling me as I lean down for a chaste kiss on his lips.

"Come now, we must get you read for the feast."

Moving away from Arthur, I am halted by his hand still gripping mine tightly, "Thank you Merlin, I needed to hear that." It is soft, but I still hear it loud and clear and I squeeze his hand in acknowledgement before dropping it.

"Time to get ready."

"Owain" Perrinore gasps out as his release hits him, "every time is like the first with you."

Cradling Perrinore's head, Owain's deep voice is surprisingly gentle, "You promised me forever and I promised you beyond, but I want to give you this."

In his hand lies an exact copy of his signet ring, "I know you can't wear it, but I wanted you to have something of mine on at all times", pulling out a chain Owain slides the signet ring onto it and reverently placing the chain around Perrinore's neck.

"Forever." The large blonde's voice breaking as he pronounces the final syllable.

"Forever and beyond." Perrinore's eyes are hidden by his raven locks, but they do not hide the solitary tear that makes its way down his cheek.

Again the emissary from Rome has taken my place at Uther's side of the board this feast is a sombre affair, my father may be welcoming the Christers with open arms, but the castle inhabitants are uneasy with this foreign religion that has the ear of their king their mutterings and whispers are louder than the actual conversations.

Merlin leans over me, ostensibly to fill my goblet, but in reality to lay a reassuring hand on my thigh.

I just want to leave and escape to my chambers, to my chambers and to Merlin.

As I stand, preparing to leave my father looks over and says, "I believe you should stay Arthur, Him Eminence has a few words he wishes to say."

My blood runs cold as The Prestor looks coldly over myself and Merlin.

"Of course Sire."

Seating myself again as the Prestor stands and walks to the front of the board.

"Thank you Your Majesty, as you are aware, I am a man of few words and I believe more in actions. This morning, two Brothers of my order entered Camelot on a mission. This mission was to stamp out abomination and degeneracy."

Deadly silence permeates the room as everyone within experiences a moment of fear.

"These two brothers brought to me first hand evidence of mortal sin being committed by one of your highest", the Prestor's eyes gleam with righteous fury, "Degenerate behaviour, abhorrent to all of our Lord's children, committed on the very soil of Camelot's heartland."

Looking towards Uther, Benedict received a slight nod, "By the order of Uther, King of Camelot I demand Owain, Duke of Gwynedd be brought to our Lord's justice for the heinous crime of sodomy."

"Noooooo!" It was a howl of anguish, torn from Perrinore's very depths, but it was too late

Owain, at sword point, is dragged before the Prestor. About to speak yet again, Benedict is interrupted as an almighty roar and clash of swords erupts.

Perrinore, his face ashen, sword drawn and two guards dead at his feet, charging down the board only to be stopped by a sword slicing his legs.

I feel all colour drain from my face, unable to tear my gaze from the two lovers who I know my father will have executed... my father and the Prestor that is.

I can feel Merlin's body trembling behind me, his terror palpable...as is mine.

"Your Majesty", the Prestor's voice sonorous in the terrified silence, "Both the Church's and Camelot's law is in accord on this matter, the punishment for this crime against nature is death by fire."

The hall is empty save my father, Merlin and me. Silence reigns until my father finally speaks.

"Did you know of this Arthur?" Cold and imperious.

"Know of what father? Know that you are going to execute two of Camelot's finest knight's? Did I know what happens between two people behind closed chamber doors? Or did you mean did I know that you hate anyone who is lucky enough to find love, for it has been years since you have ever felt its stirrings?"

The backhanded blow is expected, but I refuse to flinch from it.

"You dare to compare my relationship to your mother with that of those two degenerates?" Those cold and silky tones masking a towering fury.

"Enough, you will be expected tomorrow morning to witness... make sure your manservant is present as well, it might put some ideas out of his head."

Turning to Merlin, "Remember boy, a sin of thought is the same as a sin of the flesh."

I can feel Merlin's terror, the same as I can feel my own, he can't know, please... he can't know.

"Remember, both of you, tomorrow morning", and with a furious glare at me and a dismissive sniff at Merlin, he strides out of the hall.

Merlin hasn't spoken; he's turning down the bed, trying to ignore my presence. He can't stay here tonight, at least not as he has done for the past couple.

"Merlin, make yourself up a pallet here at the foot of the bed."  
Merlin's relief is clear as he breathes out audibly and his shoulders relax to a more normal posture.

"I thought... I thought he knew, it wasn't Owain those Prestors saw was it?"

Letting out my own breath, "No, Mer, I don't believe it was."

I can't sleep without him, but we can't take the risk, not now. Moving up to Merlin, I run my hand down his cheek.

"Try to sleep."

A minute nod and he is making up his pallet, as he does this, I prepare myself for a sleepless night when I overhear Merlin say.

"I still wouldn't change anything, if it means I still have you." It is quiet, but it is vehement.

"Me either Merlin, me either."

Sleep eludes both of us until I feel Merlin's fingers reach up and grasp my toes tightly, without a word spoken we both settle into a painful sleep.

Sunrise is still about an hour away, but the guard still patrols the dungeons, looking in to the cell he sees two men, clasped in each other's arms, both bloodied and beaten, skin torn and limbs broken, but still they cling together on their final night on this earth. Turning away the guards hopes that there is something else for them on the other side and that their journey is quick and together.

"We have no option Merlin, my father is suspicious already, we must be there."

Already and familial affection for my father is gone, replaced by only cold hope and white hot anger.

I refuse to wear anything bar the ceremonial armour of the Knights of Camelot; Merlin in his own way is honouring the two knights, for after he had strapped me into my armour, he dressed himself in the formal servant attire...complete with the hat.

Without being asked Merlin explained, "Owain always teased me about the hat and Perrinore bought me new feathers for it as well", a slight reminiscent smile gracing his face. "They were always kind to me."

A simple testimonial, honestly stated and heartfelt to boot.

"Come, it is time."

Owain and Perrinore are already tied in place at the stake, in a cruel parody of a hug; Owain's arms are wrapped around Perrinore's shoulders and Perrinore's wrapped around Owain's waist. Condemned to die, but bound together for eternity... Forever and Beyond.

At a nod from Uther, the executioner lights the brand and walks to the pyre, not a voice is heard bar the hypocritical prayers offered by one of the Prestors for the condemned men.

As the brand touches the pyre, sobs are heard from the witnesses present, the Knights of Camelot all present and in full ceremonial armour, just as I am, arms bared in salute to the comrades... a fact not unnoticed by Uther I think to myself with an internal grin.

With the flame licking at their feet and their lives about to be over, Owain and Perrinore stare at each other, it is obvious to those who can see that they are saying their goodbyes.

The pyre is fully ablaze and the men obscured by the flames as a breeze parts the flames for a moment and all can see, Owain and Perrinore are dead, Their lips pressed together in a final kiss as their hearts stopped at the same time... well before the flames themselves could have killed them.

Merlin is standing behind me, behind all of us and as I turn to him, I catch a tiny glimpse of gold out of the corner of my eye.

Walking into my chamber Merlin begins to divest me of the armour and I had to ask him, "Why take a risk like that?"

Merlin stopped what he was doing and looked at me in surprise, "because Arthur, if they had to die, then they deserved to die with dignity."

No other words were spoken.

* * *

Chapter 10: Gränsen Mellan Kärlek och Hat (The Boundary Between Love and Hate)

Summary:

What they don't know will not hurt them, but when everyone suspects they know... that is a different story

* * *

"... while I respect your desire to return to the abbey, I believe Our Lord has called upon you for this task and this task alone. You, Brother Claudius, shall remain here in Camelot and shall become the Prince's Spiritual Advisor and tutor in the ways of Our Lord." His tone alone belies the apparent politeness of his words and with the next words out of his mouth, Brother Claudius knew them for what they were... a punishment.

"I also believe that this incident would have been avoided if you had told me initially who the two participants of this tryst really were instead of relying on Brother Alfonso to tell me instead... poor Brother Alfonso really didn't have it in him to obfuscate to me, our poor brother will need some considerable time to recuperate from his ... injuries."

Claudius had guessed what had happened to Alfonso, but hearing it from the man responsible sent a cold shiver throughout him.

"I expect you to perform the Actus Contritionis one hundred times before the None's in reparation of your error."

Closing his eyes briefly, Claudius murmured a silent prayer for Brother Alfonso before replying, "Yes Your Eminence, I have been remiss and with Our Lord's help, shall strive to be better in future."

Kneeling before the simple cross on the wall, Claudius bends his head and begins, "Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a Te iuste statutas promeritus sum..."*

To the sounds of the humble prayer, Benedict allowed a satisfied smile a moment to shine before masking his face back into the neutral demeanour it previously wore. As Claudius finished the first and started the second repetition, Benedict turned his thoughts to the Crown Prince, Arthur Pendragon and under his breath muttered, "soon my prince you shall be unmasked as the degenerate you are, befouler of the innocent and enemy of the church; soon... but not until I am ready", and with an evil smile he turns and leaving the kneeling priest alone to his prayer, exits the chamber as silently as ever.

Merlin's touches are less frequent; his voice no longer pitched sweetly soft for my ears only and his presence less visible than before. I think he has come to believe that our secret is not only ours anymore... and I don't think he is wrong to believe so.

There is only the two Prestors here now, the third has been sent back, but... I'm not sure how healthy he was when he left. Merlin said that Gaius had been called at the Arch Bishop's request and had been sent away again only moments later with a fearsome look on his face.

It has been two days since Owain and Perrinore were executed... murdered I suppose would be more accurate, but not even that really for it was Merlin who granted them merciful death before the agonies of the fire could consume them.

I am sure that the Prestors know that it was not Owain and Perrinore who were seen, but Merlin and I; and I can say that it frightens me that they know this. I have been raised to be king, I have learnt tactics and warfare, the art of ruling and the art of diplomacy... even spycraft was included in my studies, but I think that my tutors were amateurs in comparison to this Prestor of Rome.

The King, no longer father in my eyes, has informed me that the other Prestor is to be my advisor and tutor in church doctrine. A direct order, not subject to negotiation I was told. This Prestor will undoubtedly be nothing more than a spy for Rome, the same as his superior.

Merlin tells me not to worry too much, if need be he can protect himself, and I know this, but it is also my job to protect my lover with every method I know... and Merlin, knowing this, will just have to live with it.

It seems that Uther has also taken an interest in the whereabouts of Merlin, a thought which leaves me cold, Uther can never know about us... or about Merlin either for that matter.

From what Merlin has told me, he has been spending a fair amount of time with Morgana's maid Gwen in the hopes of hiding in plain sight, as well as fending off any potential rumours; sensible... but I miss his presence by my side.

As for Uther... well... I have no idea what is going on inside his head. I used to be able to read him well, but that was before... well that was just before. Now, on the other hand, he is as closed to me never before.

I need to see Merlin, to be able to hold him, even briefly, if I am to continue without going mad... and that is a madness of itself, wanting this whilst in the middle of this power play between Rome and Camelot. Still, my mind set, I send for a page to hunt down Merlin and to tell him to attend me, riding I think... yes riding, anything to get out of the castle for a few hours.

I had forgotten how sweet Gwen can be, I had also forgotten how perceptive Gwen can be as well.

"Merlin, you know that Morgana tell me sometimes of her dreams?"

My eyes look askance at that, this is one area I don't want to delve too deeply into.

"She told me that she saw a great calamity fall upon Camelot", her eyes downcast and voice serious for once, "she also told me that it was you... well you and Arthur who saved us."

Raising an eyebrow doesn't achieve the desired result, either for her to continue or to leave this topic alone... for all our sakes.

Can we say ambivalent here?

Gwen for once sees that it is time for some plain talking... and by the end of it I prayed to any deity that she had remained oblivious.

"Merlin, I know about your magic, my mistress knows about your magic. We suspect that Uther also knows and there is no way for us to protect you... you must leave Camelot before Uther sends for you."

With a sense of rising horror I stare at her uncomprehendingly, trying to deny what I know that they know is fact... I can't.

"What will you do Gwen, you and Morgana...? It IS worth my life in case you missed that."

I can't help it, sarcasm is my natural defence mechanism and it always comes out directed at the people who deserve it least... well excepting the prat that is.

Rolling her eyes is the only response Gwen gives for a moment. "We, that is my mistress and I will do nothing more than what we have always done... Merlin, we have known for months, but if we are right and Uther does know, you MUST leave and soon."

"I can't, I can't leave him." Brain to mouth, brain to mouth we have a problem here.

"Him... Gaius you mean." Her eyes tell me that she already knows that it is not Gaius I am talking about.

"Do I have to say it Gwen?" My voice quavers on her name.

Looking me straight in the face, "Arthur... it has always been Arthur", and her voice made me feel like I had clubbed her beloved puppy to death... in front of her.

"Yes", I agreed softly, "Arthur."

Seeing her eyes cloud over and mist is my undoing, "I'm sorry Gwen, but I love him."

Taking a deep breath seems to steady her, "And what about Arthur, where does he stand in this?"

Poor Gwen, clinging to a thread of hope, "Arthur loves me as well Gwen", putting all I do feel for him into my voice.

"Morgana tried to warn me, she told me to love you as a friend... but not to let myself fall in love with you. I tried, I tried so hard, but you... you... damn you Merlin. Why?"

And at that lets her eyes brim over as I pull her into my arms and rock her gently amid her constant tears and questions of why.

I can't tell her the answer she wants to hear, only the one that is true and that is simple... 'Because, just because'.

It is then of course that the page Arthur sent finds us.

This is the longest we have spent in each other's company since Owain and Perrinore's deaths. It is killing me not to be able to touch him... it is also killing me that when the page returned to me, he informed me that Merlin, would be along shortly... after he had finished clinging to Guinevere; this last had been spoken with a smirk.

I trust Merlin, I do... but... Guinevere also has feelings for Merlin, I don't think he suspects, but it would be so easy to hide behind your charms and within her arms to ride out this storm that I feel threatened by her.

Yes... ok... I am jealous, this is not news to me and for a moment I had the pleasant thought of sending her to the dungeon until she learnt better, of course when Morgana found out I was the one who had sent her maidservant there, my life would have been over.

Still, the thought was pleasant while it lasted.

It is getting late in the afternoon when Merlin stops his horse, "Arthur, they know... they know everything."

Hearing this shocks me to my core, "Who, how, who?" I babble.

Leading his horse to the stream so it can drink, Merlin doesn't answer me for a minute, "Morgana and Gwen, they know everything... my magic... us."

Staring out across the stream, Merlin's eyes darken, "She is in love with me", softly spoken, but not soft enough.

"What Morgana?" I yell.

Looking at me as if I was an idiot, "Guinevere you prat."

"Anyway, what do you mean they know?" A sinking feeling in my gut.

"Morgana... well, she dreams."

Nodding my head, everyone knew that.

"Well, these dreams have a habit of coming true."

That sinking pit has left my stomach and now I feel like I am standing in it and am up to my armpits.

"She's a seer Arthur."

"That's ridiculous, there is no such thing as a real life seer." Putting my point across mildly, as if Morgana of all people was actually a seer, a prophetess even.

"Of course Arthur, exactly the same as me being an all powerful sorcerer, just a figment of our imaginations... no such thing exists. Grow up Arthur and deal with it."

Ouch, I'd forgotten how pointed Merlin can be when he is proving a point, must be something he picked up from Gaius I suspect. Forget armpits, this pit has swallowed me whole.

"Oh."

"Yes Arthur, Oh, so what do we do about it?"

Thinking quickly, "I don't think there is too much to worry about there Merlin; if she is a seer, then she has as much too lose as you if she was caught. I don't think either of the girls would risk it."

Stopping abruptly I venture into the question I really wanted an answer to, "How did they find out about us Merlin?"

Merlin looks a little sheepish at this

"Umm... ehhh... I told her."

Seeing the thundercloud on my countenance, Merlin hurriedly coninues.

"Gwen was telling me that both her and Morgana knew about my magic, they also suspected Uther of knowing as well and wanted me to leave Camelot."

My heart stopped right there, Merlin leaving Camelot, never going to happen.

"I told her I couldn't leave, not without... without."

His look begs me not to push, but I have to know.

"Without what Merlin?"

"I said I could leave without him... at first she thought of Gaius, but no, she could read the truth and that was when she asked me about you and I... then about us."

Bugger, just when I was about to enjoy tearing into Merlin, legitimately this time, he comes out with this and how on earth could I attempt it now, it'd be like kicking a puppy, he looks so woebegone.

Taking a deep breath and a quick glance to see that Merlin is still expecting his world to collapse, I walk up to him and simply wrap my whole body around his.

"It's alright Mer, I don't think they will do anything about it."

It is not enough, but at least it removes that look of abject terror from his face.

Leaning in to him once more, I let my tongue part his lips, as he has done to me many times before, and slowly drag us down onto the stream bank.

There is a desperation to this kiss that all of our previous ones have not had, a hunger that burns from within and an unquenchable fire that heightens every touch, every sensation until we are both feeling the same thing at the same time.

After the passion had cooled... ever so slightly, of which the mud we were rolling around in was a major contributor to, Merlin quirks that eyebrow of his; he really is spending too much time with Gaius.

"Well have a look at us, we look like pigs in the sty... fancy a dip in the stream to cleanup?" This last is said in a voice filthier than we could ever be rolling around in the mud.

"Stay there, I want you to watch... just like I did in the hunting lodge."

Gods that voice drives a man insane, filthy and obscene, coming out with double entendres that have me hard again in seconds.

"Don't touch yourself, just watch me and imagine what I'm going to do to you afterwards."

Striding out into the stream, Merlin sinks down into the shallow water, leaning his head back, wetting it and running his fingers through it. After he is satisfied that he is as wet as possible he stands before me.

His hard cock perfectly outlined by his wet breeches, he has lifted his shirt over his head so it is caught behind it and leaves his chest exposed to my hungry view. One hand is splayed across his chest while the other slowly undoes the ties on his breeches.

"Watch me Arthur, see what you do to me, see how hard my prick is for you, how much it wants to be inside you... how much I want to fuck you till you scream."

Tiny rivulets of water run down his chest, his hand matting the fine dark hairs that flow down towards his cock as he runs his fingers absently up and down. He has freed his dick from his breeches and it is right there, taunting me, hard flesh jutting outwards proudly.

Taking himself in his hand he lets out a groan so dirty that I clench my arse in anticipation, his hand roughly pulling hard then gentling as his fingers hit the head before roughly gripping and pulling downwards again. Each stroke pulling his hood right back from the head, leaving it an angry flushed red.

Gods I must taste him, I have to have him in my mouth.

"You want this Arthur...? You want this in your mouth...? Maybe you want it up your arse... fuck you till you spill over, is that what you want?"

I can't help myself as my fingers push past my own throbbing cock to seek my hole, I need to be fucked, something up me... anything up, just do it now.

I don't realise that I gasped this last bit out loud until Merlin's voice is heard again.

"Yeah, you need to be fucked, but first, get over here and put your mouth where it does the most good."

Oh fuck, Merlin talking dirty, treating me like a slut, fuck... not sure if I can handle much more... need control, need to control myself before I go off.

"I'm waiting bitch."

And that's it, my breeches are ripped off and my tunic torn from me as I rush to get on my knees before him and take that prick deep in my mouth.

Merlin's face when I do this is an incredible sight, as much as his words sound dirty and demeaning, it is his face that tell me the truth and that truth is incandescent, he loves me, every movement of his eyes, each hitched breath tells me this.

Feeling him at the back of my throat the musky taste forced deeper inside me is a feeling I have come to crave, his prick, not overly thick but very long, it is the kind of cock made for depth, made for long slow strokes and hard fast thrusts. If Uther wants me to find religion, then I'll just setup and altar here and continue to worship Merlin's cock.

I can tell from the way his hips falter he is close, but I want him inside me when he comes. Pulling off of his prick is not easy, but I want it somewhere else more.

Merlin's face is covered in sweat as his eyes narrow to pinpoints as I turn around and kneel on all fours in the stream. Arching my back and thrusting my arse outwards and he gets the message as his blunt cockhead nudges my hole.

"Now, please Merlin, now!" I am practically incoherent with lust, I need this, I crave this.

Grasping my shoulders, Merlin begins a slow forceful push into me, the pain is exquisite as I slowly open to him and the burn centres on my already over stimulated cock.

This slow burn continues until I feel his thighs on my backside, knowing he is fully in me. Clenching hard makes him choke out a cry as he pulls back out till just his head is still inside me.

No warning this time as he slams his cock back in hard as the scream is forced out of my lungs, not pain this time, but pure animal lust.

I'm babbling now I can't help it; hard, fast, full, thrusts into me; I'm so close now, just once more should push me over

With a primal scream Merlin puts all his power behind this last thrust and I feel him embed himself so deep that I'll never forget it and then my world goes white as my climax hits me and just before I collapse face first into the water I realise he has brought me off without touching me, literally fucked my seed out of me... then I think no more as my face hits the water.

Moments... minutes... hours later I wake back on the bank with my head curled in Merlin's lap and his fingers carding through my hair... and I wish we never had to return to that castle.

Notes:

*Actus Contritionis

Deus meus, ex toto corde poenitet me omnium meorum peccatorum, eaque detestor, quia peccando, non solum poenas a Te iuste statutas promeritus sum, sed praesertim quia offendi Te, summum bonum, ac dignum qui super omnia diligaris. Ideo firmiter propono, adiuvante gratia Tua, de cetero me non peccaturum peccandique occasiones proximas fugiturum. Amen.

Act of Contrition

O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins,because of thy just punishment, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who are all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace to confess my sins,to do penance and to amend my life. Amen.

* * *

Chapter 11: Sista Morgonen (The Last Morning)

Summary:

A Rose by any other name...

* * *

We have spent hours just laying here by the stream bank; Merlin had setup camp and prepared our meal with a simple flash of his eyes and we haven't moved since.

Merlin's eyes are half closed, a golden gleam shows where his normal blue would; his right hand clenches as the golden glow surrounds it, flaring brilliantly... then fading into nothing.

"I want you to have this Arthur", as his hand opens slowly.

In his hand is a ring, the band is twisted gold, but it is the stone that catches my attention. It is a ruby, so highly polished that it looks more like a red sun in full brilliance.

"Look closely at the ruby Arthur."

Peering into the deep red stone I see it is carved into the Pendragon crest, although the dragon is more lifelike that any I have seen, it looks more as if it was frozen in time, each scale, each talon etched into the stone in sharp relief.

"Put it on and look at it again."

Placing the ring onto my pointer finger I feel rather than see a ruby light surrounding both Merlin and I. Taking a startled gasp I look askance at Merlin.

Seeing my questioning look he says, "Trust me."

I can feel the ring absorb the warmth from the light and then a gentle throbbing can be felt from the ring.

Looking down I see the ruby lighten and darken rhythmically.

"Give me your other hand Arthur."

Raising my left hand, he takes it in both of his and opening my fingers flat he places my palm against his chest... just over his heart.

"The ruby is linked to my heartbeat Arthur, you will be able to feel and see each beat, when you hold me, you will feel it speed up, and when we make love you will feel it hammering the same as my heart does as I drive into you... basically you hold my heart in your hand, take it off and my heart will cease to beat. Wear it always and you will know my heart beats for you and you alone."

The world around me blurs as the implications of his gift hit me.

"Your heart... your life", it is too much to take in, "Why...? A simple ring is enough." He has completely floored me here.

"Arthur, I have already pledged my life to you, my heart I also pledged to you long ago, but now that we have..." his hand waves between us, "it is one and the same, my heart and my life... you are my heart and life. If you were to no longer want this..." his hand closing over mine, which still rests above his heart, "then I would die inside anyway."

Letting my tears fall now as Merlin's own course down his face and all I can say in response, "Forever."

It is a vow that can only be taken once, from this lifetime onwards Forever and Merlin will mean the same thing... Us.

I'm not sure who reached for whom first, but everything seemed to slow down as a moment stretched into hours. His mouth all over me as his eyes glow and my clothes disappear while his hands caress my body and tease me endlessly.

The burning desperation that usually accompanied our couplings is absent and in its place is a sense of wholeness and rightness; this is how I had always imagined two people who were meant for each other in each and every way imaginable... I had come home.

Opening my eyes as I feel him breach me, my legs wrap around his waist as his arms wrap around me and then I finally realise that there is nothing beneath me.

"Trust me", he says it over and over as I relax into thrusts, no longer caring that we are defying the very laws of nature. The freedom of being suspended in the air allows both of us to move unrestricted. His long, leisurely strokes; leaving me open to him as never before.

His hand grasps me and strokes me in time to his thrusts, and I know that I can't hold any longer.

It is perfect.

"Seize them!"

The sudden drop from the air to the ground jarring me back to the real world... there, surrounding us were my father's guards... and there in front of me, Uther, King of Camelot.

I can't believe it, after everything we have been through it ends like this, me deep inside Arthur and us floating several feet in the air while doing it. The only thing I hope for now is that Uther will not punish Arthur for it. In his arrogance; Uther will assume that I have bewitched Arthur... I hope.

The malicious smile that Uther wears sends chills down my spine, seconds before my head his struck from behind and I tumble into darkness and my fate.

My final thought, 'Arthur'.

I wake slowly, I can feel my hands and feet bound, I must be slung over a horse as its gait jars my body with every step. Trying to keep quiet and attention from myself I shift my head to try and see Arthur and seconds later wish I hadn't.

Arthur, still naked and bound as I am, slung over his horse like a common criminal, his father... his fucking father, leads his horse by the reins and my heart burns for Arthur and what I have now cost him.

But what draws my attention more is the bleeding cut down Arthurs left cheek, jagged edged and swollen, the bastard struck his own son. Unable to bear witness to Arthur's shame any longer, I close my own eyes and wait.

I can't believe it, to be caught not only being penetrated by Merlin, but to be caught whilst suspended in midair. He will kill him, what he does to me is of little consequence, but while I have life, he will pay.

I have been in this cell for hours now, the king still has not spoken a word to me and I fear for Merlin. His ring on my finger pulses weakly and I know Merlin has been hard pressed by the king's torturers. I can feel every blow, cut and burn through the ring as his heart slows and speeds.

Giving him the only comfort I can I raise the ring to my lips and tenderly kiss it, hoping that somehow he can feel it and that it does offer some comfort... or at least let him know how I feel.

Hearing the bolts on the door, I pull back to the corner. Instead of them coming for me, they have returned Merlin. The bastards have left him chained to the wall, even in this poor light, I can see the damage they have done.

Waiting for the guards to bolt the door closed once more, I look at Merlin; both of his arms look broken, knife wounds mar his chest. His feet look burnt and broken and his legs shattered but... but what makes me turn into the corner and heave anything that remained in my stomach.

Blood, streaking down his legs and a broken off haft of a spear embedded inside him, in cruel mockery of our love making... and this, this is what breaks me.

Moving over to Merlin, my hands itching to touch and comfort, but terrified of hurting him any further.

"Mer, please Mer." I am not sure of what I am asking, but cannot remain silent.

"Mer... so sorry, sorry, so sorry."

"How touching, a prince and his catamite lover... actually more like the servant and his catamite prince lover." Uther's voice cuts through the silence from behind the grating in the door.

Ignoring him is the easiest thing I have ever done, all my attention is on Merlin. Standing up and leaning into Merlin's face, my lips touch his as Uther enters the cell

"I love you Mer... Forgive me." And our lips touch one last time before my head is dragged away by my hair.

"You dare, in front of your king... in front of your father."

"I have no father." Simple statement of fact.

"He has bewitched you." His voice is almost pleading for it to be true.

"No, he loves me and I love him."

Uther's face swings around as if I slapped him.

"You could not love him, he is a man... he is a sorcerer... he is pure evil." His voice is fanatical, caught up in his hatred of both magic and sodomy.

"He is Merlin, he is a man, he is a sorcerer and he is innocence personified, you... YOU are the one consumed by evil and I hope that by this god you now believe in will forgive you... for I shall never."

"Very well then, you shall remain in this cell until my final breath is breathed. You are my son and for that I cannot order your death, but you shall sit in here until the day I die... consider this the final gift from the father you no longer have. Regardless, the boy dies now."

Unable to control myself I fling myself at Uther's knees and beg, "please, no... Please... father, no."

As he kicks me away he turns to the guard and orders Merlin to be removed to the courtyard and tied to the stake. Turning back to me, his eyes cold, "You have no father Arthur... remember?" then he turned and left, with Merlin being dragged out before him.

It is only minutes later as I am screaming and pounding the door that it opens again.

"The King has ordered your presence at the execution." The chains in his hands and several guards behind him prove his allegiance to the new order.

I can't bear the thought of watching Merlin die, but I will... for him and for us... I owe us that much before my revenge.

Chained and manacled, I am carried from the cell, up the steps and dragged to the stake where Merlin is already tied.

There are only guards and Uther present, and the executioner.

Time slows as I turn to face Merlin, his eyes are barely open, but he still sees me before him. As the lit brand touches the rushes beneath the pyre, Merlin's eyes open fully and he looks directly to me. A tear streaks down his filthy cheek, but his smile... his smile is pure love and devotion and it is directed at me.

My own look of love is shadowed by the grimaces of pain that sear Merlin's face as the flames lick higher, searing skin and flesh.

It is over quickly, I know Merlin has gone when the ring grows cool and lifeless on my finger. As the flames consume his body I stand before him still until there is nothing left and dawn's cold light breaks the sky.

Alone again back in the dungeon cell that is to be my new home, the day's light bright through the grating that acts as a window, I finally let the tears flow.

Above, I strain to hear the movements of the castle when a faint cry is heard from far above, it sounds like a Falcon's cry, a Merlin... and the ring flares back into life and the reassuring cadence of a heartbeat is present once more.

Closing my eyes I raise the ring to my lips and kiss it tenderly as tears again fall from my eyes, but this time I know they are not from grief, but from joy.

Merlin will return to me.


	2. I Need You

**Chapter 1****: Jag Behöver Dig (I Need You) **

Soaring high above, clouds obscuring him from view, the merlin's sharp eyes see its prey and with a piercing shriek he dives, talons outstretched... hungry for blood.

Barely dodging the errant bird; Uther, King of Camelot curses loudly.

"Haven't you got that cursed bird trained yet? It just missed my head you fool." Both fury and embarrassment colour his words and so they should... this is the fifth time in two weeks the new falcon has swooped him.

The Falconer can't work it out; the bird, albeit only new to the hood, was certainly capable and always brought down the kill. This behaviour was as strange as the circumstances of the bird's presence in the castle itself.

It was only four weeks previously when the Falconer spotted a magnificent merlin, perched in the tree opposite the grating that acted as a window into the Prince's cell. Slowly moving over to the tree, the Falconer raised his arm, startling the bird, but then incredibly, the bird swooped down and landed on his outstretched arm and began to preen and clean his feathers, completely unconcerned as the amazed handler took him back to the mews.

He may have been a magnificent bird, well trained and a natural at diving for the kill, but for reasons of its own, the merlin would always ignore the prey in favour of the King and would dive for him every time. Shrugging his shoulders, the falconer whistled for the errant bird and held his arm out... for nothing, for the first time, the bird ignored his call and flew to the grating, using his talons to anchor himself in place and flapping his wings urgently to maintain his balance and a piercing shriek that echoed through the cells. His sharp eyes picking out the details of the cell within; a thin pallet made up with threadbare blanket, a rickety writing desk, liberally spattered with ink and candle wax, a bookshelf full of books... and on the wall... a cross.

With a disdainful cry the merlin focussed his eyes on the cells occupant, his sharp cries changing to a soft crooning trill as he sees the man inside.

I can't believe my ears at first, I have been hearing that Merlin's cry every day now since that day... My Merlin's death and Merlin the Falcon's birth, hearing it every day with my mind's ears and my hearts memory, but now it is my physical ears that hear him... My Merlin.

Looking up at the grating, my heart lurches as I see a falcon gripping the grating and flapping his wings furiously.

"Mer... Merlin? Is that you?"

I'm not sure what to believe anymore, Merlin's ring thrums on my finger but I have been hearing his cry so often that hearing it now and seeing him clawing at the grating is like a dream, the same dream I have also been having since that day.

With his cries changing to a soft crooning, I race to the grating and reaching my arm up as far as it can, grip the lowest end of the grating... then nothing... nothing until I feel soft feathers caressing my fingertips.

"Merlin." Soft and loving tone as my heart hammers in my chest and Merlin drops his feathered head to my fingers and rubs his head against my fingers and his eyes flash a brilliant gold before returning to their falcon amber.

My Merlin... Home again, home with me.

The reality of the situation takes a while to sink in; why is he back? Can he change back into a man or is he to remain as a bird for the remainder of his life...? And if he could... would he still feel the same?

Five years, almost to the day, I remember exactly how Merlin looked, how he felt against me but now... now, I am different. Gone is the bulk from training and wearing armour every day, gone is the colour that time in the sun bestows, gone is the arrogance and regal bearing. Instead all there is left is a thin, pale ghost of a man, my hands have turned soft and my strength is gone all that is left is a memory of what used to be and the image in my mind of how I used to be.

It has been a long five years, as each day drew to an end I would mark the wall and fall asleep and dream I was in Merlin's arms... as the days turned to months and months turned slowly into years my hope that Merlin would return slowly died and crumbled. As my body lost its warrior build and took on more of a scholars build, my mind began to crave ways to keep busy. Surprisingly, the one who helped me the most risked his very existence every time he set foot into my cell... Brother Claudius.

The personification of all I saw that took Merlin from me... he has ended up being the one person I could speak to about everything. At first I gloried in verbally sparing with him over everything, he had no choice but to return day after day... you see it was his duty from his Arch Bishop AND King Uther that I be converted to Christerdom. You can imagine my response to that, a pale, weak man; deeply entrenched in the dogma of his order trying to convert me, ME the Crown Prince of Camelot to Christerdom.

Can you see the irony there, I couldn't at first, but slowly as I began to really talk to him, out of sheer desperation mind you, I could see that he was nearing the end of his patience, but eventually we managed to ignore the real reason he was here and instead began to speak about everyday things, the goings on at court and eventually, began talking about the church and Rome.

If it wasn't for Claudius, I would have gone mad from grief and boredom combined.

But that is for another time, now all I can think of is Merlin and what it means that he is back, in one shape or another.

For six weeks now, Merlin has perched on the grating, every day as the sun reaches the zenith of the sky and for a few glorious moments I can touch my Merlin. A few glorious moments I feel like my old self... a few glorious fucking moments.

And every day, a few minutes after Merlin has left, I turn introspective and morose, a few moments with Merlin... a fucking bird... it is not enough, but as I said to Merlin many years ago, I am not strong enough to send him away.

I still love Merlin the same as I did before everything went to pieces and I lost him.

Uther on the other hand... well I'm not sure anymore. Gone is the intense hatred I had before, gone but not forgotten. As I promised him, I still have not forgiven him and I never will, but after spending my life living for his approval... it is those times when he would grace me with a smile or a 'well done' nod that I miss. It is not his fault... completely that he is the way he is, Claudius had managed to discover quiet a lot out listening in to conversations, so I know some of the reasons for Uther's hatred of magic.

Uther loved his wife, of this I have no doubt, loved her as much as I love Merlin, where fire took mine away... magic took his away. I can understand, but still, never forgive.

Hearing keys rattling, I am thinking that Claudius is coming to visit early, but no.

Five guards, dressed in the Church Guards uniform of unrelieved black with a white cross emblazoned across their chest.

"Your Highness, King Uther has ordered your presence before him."The guard's voice is stark and uninflected; but the man's disapproval shines through clearly and I wonder, not for the first time, just what reason Uther has given for my imprisonment. Claudius, for reasons of his own, has refused to disclose that information to me.

Drawing upon my memory for the haughty, regal manner I used to respond to those of lesser station, "Am I to be presented to the King as I am? You may wear the insignia of the Church, but you are still subject to secular authority as well. I have not been disbarred nor disinherited. I am still your Crown Prince, you will allow me to bathe and change into raiment more suitable for an audience with the King."

Judging by the uncertain and slightly worried look on the guards' face, I still have it when I need it and I allow myself a small grin as I enjoy this small victory.

"Very well Your Highness, we shall escort you to your former chambers and allow you to bathe and change, you only have a few minutes though as King Uther has demanded your presence immediately."

Alright then, a very small victory, but still a victory none the less.

A bath, even a cold one, feels wonderful; I have had to make do with a cloth and a bucket of water and I push the tolerance of the guards by taking my time. Clothes on the other hand became more of a nightmare; everything I owned were made for my former build, only some of my older clothing came close to fitting my thinner and reduced frame.

Unable to put it off any further, I dressed in an old pair of breeches of mine and one of Merlin's tunic's that was left in my chambers from happier days... I wish I could say that I could still smell Merlin on the tunic... but I can't... I can't smell him at all, but I can still feel him just by wearing his clothes. Taking a deep breath to help control the sense of longing that was plaguing me, I turned to the guards. "I am ready."

As I walk to King Uther's chambers, I can see the changes that have occurred during my incarceration, the art decorating the walls has been removed, furnishings and draperies have been toned down to an almost austere quality, but the most noticeable change was the Christers cross presence in every room and on every wall... it seems as if the Church of Rome had moved its court and relocated to the halls of Camelot.

Leaving my 'escort' at Uther's door I pause a moment as I gather my courage before lifting my hand to knock. So many thoughts running through my mind and no time to sort any of them into a semblance of order, finally knocking I wait to be called to enter.

Moments pass as I wait in vain for a call to enter; instead the door opens and in front of me stands the Arch Bishop, Benedict.

"Your father will see you now Arthur."

That voice, that hated voice, I am positive he had something to do with Uther catching Merlin and I in the woods. Pushing past the man, like the bug he is I turn to him, "He is not my father, my King perhaps, but he is not my father... he lost the right to that appellation five years ago."

My eyes are directing all my anger and pain at this man, but for all the vitriol I aim at him... it slides off of him all but untouched.

It is then my eyes light upon King Uther for the first time in five years.

Uther's face is gaunt and grey, he has aged in the past five years, much more so than just the passage of time would warrant. Letting my eyes roam around his chambers, I am surprised to see signs of everyday business present; it is almost as if Uther hasn't left his chambers for some time.

It is clear that Uther is unwell and Gaius' presence confirms this as he enters the room and I feel his hand lightly on my shoulder.

"Your father is gravely ill Arthur... Sire. I don't expect him to last much longer."

"What is wrong with him?" My voice is quiet and more worried than I am wont to let people know.

"Grief... anguish and grief is killing him Sire... the same as what is killing me as well."

Gaius spoke this last as if to himself, his own suffering and grief obvious to any with eyes and ears.

"Your father and I have both lost our sons Arthur, mine is ashes, his cut from his heart by his own actions, but regardless he suffers and he pays and soon he will pay the same price as Merlin. He will die for his love of you."

Hearing Gaius' grief brings my own back to the surface, but I know Merlin is still with us. I shall speak to Gaius after Uther has finished with me.

With a tear coursing my cheek I look up to Gaius's face and see one tracing his own. United in our grief for the same man, we don't hear Uther's faint call at first.

"Arthur...my son."

As much as I don't wish to, I can hear how much Uther is in pain, how much of that is physical I don't know.

"I am here as you commanded My King."

This is the man who ordered my Merlin to the flames.

"Ahhh, I had hoped you may have relented whilst you were away."

"Away! Let me refresh your memory my liege, you had my lover... MY LOVER, murdered, burnt alive because he was different, because I AM different... then, then you have me imprisoned for five years after you made me watch Merlin die in agony. All of this and you still complain that my heart has closed to you?"

My anger knows no bounds as the man who destroyed my life and who killed my Merlin dared to have the temerity to hope that I would forgive?

"For all of my hopes Arthur, forgiveness is not one of them. I have hated magic because it took my beloved Igraine away from me, I have hated magic for so long that I have turned it into a personal crusade. Lying here as I am, I know I am dying Arthur... I know what the loss of your beloved means... no, I do not ask your forgiveness, for I know I still haven't forgiven magic."

His voice even though weak, still holds some power of authority as I listen to him. Unwilling to feel anything other than anger and still failing as I see the state of him... Uther, King of Camelot and... my father.

"I do not expect you to forgive me for taking Merlin from you Arthur and that is something that although I dearly wish, if your mother could see us now, she would be appalled at me, her husband treat our son so. No, I only wish to apologise for the damage I have done to you Arthur, to you and soon to Camelot for when I die, you will be King... free to make your own decisions... and allegiances.

A noisy flapping at the open window draws our attention as Merlin, my Merlin lands on the sill.

"Who let that falcon loose", Uther demanded weakly, but I am ignoring him as I finally can see and hold Merlin properly for the first time in five years.

Whistling softly to Merlin I extend my arm, hoping that he will perch upon it. As he takes wing, Merlin flies across to Gaius and perches briefly on his shoulder and leans his head against the old physicians. A moment later Merlin is perched on my shoulder and is rubbing his face alongside my own.

"Merlin, oh my Merlin, I have missed you so much." Tears that were held in check since speaking to Gaius run free as Merlin presses against my face.

Turning to Uther, my father, "This is not just a falcon father... it is a Merlin... my Merlin."

Uther's face is a study of mixed emotions, fear, understanding, regret and finally relief.

With a hop and jump, Merlin is perched at the foot of Uther's bed, his eyes glowing a vibrant gold.

Pulling himself into a seated position, Uther extends his hand to Merlin and so quietly that I almost don't hear says, "Forgive me for my ignorance, forgive me for my jealousy and forgive my hatred... Merlin."

Hopping closer to Uther, Merlin moves close to Uther's outstretched hand and lays his head on the opened palm.

"Thank you, tha..."

We never heard the rest, My father's heart finally gave out and his chest rattled and a silent sigh escaped him. His arm dropped back down and his head hit the pillow beneath it.

With a quaking cry Gaius raises his voice, "The King is dead, long live the king... Long live King Arthur."

Turning to look back at my father, I see the same golden glow as Merlin's eyes surround both Merlin and my father, brighter and brighter it became, surrounding them both until it was impossible to look directly at them. When the glow faded, my father was gone, but Merlin was laying there in his place, naked and fully man shaped.

To the sound of Gaius collapsing to the ground in a dead faint, I leap upon the bed and cradle Merlin to my chest.

Merlin is alive and Merlin has returned to me once more.


	3. Our Time is Now

Vår Tid är Nu (Our Time is Now)

I am just an old man who has lived and seen more in my life than one man should. Six years ago a bright light entered my world and five years ago that light was extinguished... and now that light has been relit; not only for myself, but also for our King... King Arthur.

How I despaired that this witless boy could ever master his gift without the known world hounding him, but day by day that witless fool became more and more a man. A dangerous man; a good hearted man and more importantly he affected all others around him.

Arthur was always the golden boy, born to privilege and station. Many feared the day that the prince would become their king... until Merlin came along.

Arthur changed, slowly at first, from an arrogant adolescent to a man that many attempted to emulate and if history is a kind mistress, she will place that change at the feet of a tall, lanky lad with odd ears and an ever present smile.

The only problem is... history is a fickle lady and her tune changes with the passage of time until her original melody is no longer remembered and any changes are left in the hands of those who know no better.

History is written by the victor, not by the participants themselves and therefore she may only sing with one voice and I fear... I fear that she will be singing the glory of God whilst the ruins of Camelot crumble beneath her song and the true heroes will be only remembered as a legend.

She will not remember Arthur and Merlin and the beauty of this time, only the bards shall ever speak their names and only those currently living will know the truth.

The truth that is Camelot, the truth of her King and his companion.

Merlin.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lying in my arms he is yet to stir, my arm has fallen numb several hours ago, but I am loathe to move... I have waited for five years to feel him against me once more and nothing, nothing shall take him from me now.

My hand rests above his heart, my ring echoing his heartbeat, there is so much I need to say and even more I want to say to him, but for now I am happy just to have him in my arms again... the rest can wait.

I know that there are so many things to organise and prepare my... father's funeral, my coronation and the abolishment of certain laws to name the most pressing of the enormous list. There is also the problem that Uther has left, The Christers; my views have changed over the years speaking to Brother Claudius and I am sure that the general majority are peaceable and wish nothing more than to live their lives the same as any of us. It is the upper echelons that give me pause.

Brother Alfonso, Claudius' superior at the abbey, he was a kindly old man who believed that men should live and let live; sure, he believed whole heartedly in Jesu and Christerdom, but not to the exclusion of basic human needs, a true believer caught in a power struggle between the Church and secular bodies. Power can be translated as land, you control the land; you have the power... even Uther understood this and he made sure I did as well.

Yet... Brother Alfonso paid the price for frustrating his superior's schemes and now that poor old man is nothing more that bones in the abbey graveyard. Claudius has managed to stay here in relative safety in the castle and I must find a way to keep him safe for I believe that the old ways are just that, the old ways and that Christerdom shall spread until there is nothing remaining of the old ways and magic. No, he must keep Claudius safe while forcing Benedict away.

Now we hit the crux of the matter, while I had no issue with the run of the mill Christers, the ruling class on the other hand, they had to be stopped before Camelot and even Albion is caught in the middle of an armed insurrection.

These thoughts and more race through my mind, but my mind is never far from the man in my arms either because without him, I could not do what I intend to do. As my first act as king, I shall repeal the laws regarding magic and sodomy... basically, I am going to declare war on the Church of Rome.

Running my hand his front, just to be able to feel him, to know he is really here. He has changed since the last time we were together; his hair has grown long and wild, reaching past his shoulders. His face has grown more masculine, his cheekbones no longer dominated his face instead complemented it and his ears... his ears... well, let's just say that they are as endearing as before.

His chest is now broader and muscled, I suppose flapping your wings for the last five years would help there, whereas before there was only a light sprinkling of hair running down the middle of his chest and continuing down... now there is an even coverage, slightly coarse, whorling patterns all over his chest. Masculine and definitely male, letting my eyes rove further down they alight upon his cock lying there thick and heavy, nestled in a thick patch of dark curls, it's hood slightly pulled back and his tip peeking through.

I remember the first time he fucked me, dry, no preparation, he pushed into me, forcing himself deep inside me. The pain was indescribable as he stretched me wide and buried himself firmly inside me, but regardless, he pulled me apart and put me back together that night. His cock huge within me; he controlled me inside and out and I have never since regretted it... sometimes even Prince's have to learn when to give up control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It is still several hours till dawn and Merlin finally stirs enough for me to move my arm from beneath him. I am distracted from rubbing my arm by a feather light touch upon my cheek. I am incapable of ignoring his touch and I push my cheek into it, craving his skin on mine.

His eyes are iridescent in the reflected moonlight and they are staring at me in wonder, a soft crooning sound coming from deep within his chest, the same croon he would make when he was the merlin falcon. Raising his hand in one of mine, I lift it to my lips and place a chaste kiss upon each of his fingers, never once breaking away from his eyes.

As if this was an unspoken signal, Merlin gathers me in his arms and pulls me close, rubbing his face against mine.

"I thought I would never see you again, at least not in my real body... I've missed having arms and legs."

Still the same Merlin, quirky grin and all, his eyes lit up voice as eager as a puppy, it is nice to know that some things never change.

My ache for him must be visible; even in this dim light, as he bears down upon me and parts my lips with his own.

Again I am reminded of our first encounter, fierce and passionate, uncoordinated and clumsy, perfect, simply perfect.

Plundering my mouth with his tongue, forcing me to capitulate; both our bodies rocking against the other, grinding cocks and bruising hips... rough... wild... and just right.

Rolling me over onto my back he stills, then draws back to sit upon my hips looking down at me, hungry and wild... feral.

Leaning forward again, his hand cupping my neck whilst the other firmly grasping my hip, squeezing and kneading my flesh, driving me wild as I undulate beneath him... needing more contact, more of him... just more.

Easing first one leg then the other from beneath him, I lay both my legs astride his hips and gathering his hand in mine I pull it up to my mouth and wrap my tongue and lips around a finger, teasing him and me, showing him what I want and what I need, grinding my arse against his hard prick, telling it where it should be.

Guiding his finger down between my splayed legs, down past my balls to where I want him to be. Pushing his finger into me, not caring of the pain it causes me... I need this, I need him opening me up and getting me ready for his prick.

A deep moan makes its way from within me as my arse feels another finger enter. It has been so long and I need him now, all of him as hard as he can. I need to remember and I need to forget.

"Merlin, please... now, inside."

An evil glint lights his eyes at that, his own desire and need taking over.

"Hold your own legs in the air... King Arthur... hold them wide and hold them back", his voice similar to a predators snarl just before the kill.

Pulling my legs back as far as I can and resting my elbows behind my knees I am as open as I can be... and still he waits.

His fingers plunging in and out, but it's not enough, I need all of him and I need it now.

"Merlin, FUCK ME!" Sheer exasperation and need make my voice rough and harsh as my own arousal thrums.

Surging to his knees he places his arms above my shoulders on the bed and nudges my arse with his prick, teasing me. Raising one hand off the bed, he positions his cock right at my hole, but instead of thrusting into me he lets his own body weight push him into me.

A harsh scream is rent from my throat as the dual feelings of pain and pleasure assail me once again as I cant my hips further forward, trying to drive him in deeper as he arches his back, changing his centre of balance and forcing him further into me.

The pain is as I remembered it, but the pleasure far exceeds what I do remember, that exquisite feeling of being breached and plundered; taken without remorse, and as he begins to thrust in earnest... I learn to fly.


	4. Brother Claudius

Broder Claudius - Brother Claudius

Many things have changed for me, even in me, in the last five years. I still hold deeply to my belief in Jesu, but... but the hold of the Church on me has lessened, its dogma and hypocrisy anathema to me. Even my own desires have become acceptable to me, as never before Arthur would I even have allowed myself to dream.

For all that the Church denounces the worship of Pagan gods and magic and even sodomy; I am now left with a feeling of ease with all of these... and one of them in particular.

Let me go back a few years and tell you of my first meeting with Prince Arthur.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_"The son has cast his soul with the evil ones which abound in this land, that the Prince of this realm has taken for himself a catamite is disgrace and shame enough for his father, who although is newly devout... devout he is none the less, but that this boy has also been burnt as a practitioner of the occult and magic leaves King Uther's heart and spirit's low and he has beseeched us to focus our attention on the Prince. That it was you yourself that witnessed his evil congress with the sorcerer may be used here. Rome has decided that you Brother Claudius, shall be tasked with the conversion to Christerdom of King Uther's son, you have until Uther's death for this miracle to happen, so there's ample time for you to persuade the heir to the throne to mend his ways. I image that being an indulged prince will have made him soft, certainly not one who could endure any extended time in the dungeons."_

With my mouth I say, "Yes Your Eminence, with the strength and wisdom of Our Father I shall do my best", but in my heart I know his evaluation of the prince is wrong, dangerously wrong... and it will be my head on the block each time I walk into that cell, Arthur will never forgive those who had his lover killed and I'm not sure I blame him... even if I am one of those involved.

I know that the Arch Bishop has foisted this onto me, as punishment and as well for the simple necessity of it needing to be done... and there is no way he would sully himself with the task, not when he has the current King eating out of his palm, no the future is mine to deal with and suffer for.

Walking down to the dungeons it amazes me how people can change so drastically when they allow the church into their heart, letting Jesu and Our Father in is an easy task for they espouse that all men are equal in Our Father's love and divine wisdom, but it is the church that espouses the separation of self from the flesh, the condemnation of the body and heart and the principle of indulgences for future usage. Even if I am of the Church, I am not of the church.

King Uther has proven himself to be an impetuous and foolish ruler, fear of magic I can well understand, but hunting it to extinction is not something that Jesu would decree. The fact that the king has imprisoned his own son tells me more than I wish to know about that particular family structure... and the king wonders why his son gave his heart to a male sorcerer. Fairly obvious I think.

Approaching the cell door, I am reminded of a wild creature that has been injured, fiercely protective and violent, as he stalks about the cell, the whole four paces each way. Taking a deep breath I prepare to enter the lion's den.

"You!"

Barely within the cell proper and his hands are around my throat already.

"Because of you, _**Prestor**__ my lover has burnt." His voice alone terrifies me and his hands are squeezing the life from me as tears course down his cheeks and I finally see how true his love was for the dark haired lad._

With the last breaths I have I manage to croak out, "Forgive me my Prince, for I knew no better", and I wait for my blessed peace and accounting with Our Lord.

Moments pass as ages when suddenly his hands leave my throat and I drop to ground gasping for air.

"Why?" I ask, after I have sufficient breath in my body, "Why not take my life in vengeance for the one taken from you?" My mind cannot comprehend why he has ceased his, at that point, fairly successful attempt on my life.

"Is that what you Christers preach, to take life needlessly; to kill without just cause, to murder those who disagree with you?" He snarls this out in disgust. The contempt plain in his voice and on his countenance as he spits out, "I may be a sodomite, nay not just a sodomite, I am the prince of them and my lover was a sorcerer, but even such as we have values. I could no more kill you, as much as I dearly wish I could, than I could a child who has disobeyed his father. I detest all you are and all you stand for, but it is not my right to kill you. Even a disgraced knight of Camelot has more honour than that."

His entire body resonates with the conviction of his speech and I am humbled before him.

"Now leave me mourn in peace." Pain and anguish thread their way through his entire being and cowed I scramble for the door and leave with as much haste as I can.

From that day onwards, I too became an acolyte of Prince Arthur's Camelot and my dearest wish was only to serve as befitted a believer of Jesu and Our Father... but not a disciple of the Church.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His Eminence has not deemed me important enough to tell me anything bar that Uther has passed on and I pray that I am forgiven for the joy that these words bring me, pray that I am forgiven even though I am unrepentant.

Arthur... actually, King Arthur now stands before all and sundry as the Arch Bishop has just crowned and anointed him the King of Camelot and Defender of the Faith. Even from this distance, I can see Arthur's mouth twist a little at this last.

Walking to the front of the dais where the Throne of Camelot sits in majestic splendour, Arthur dips his head for a moment then raises it to face those assembled. A soft mutter breaks out through the room as tears roll slowly down Arthur's cheek.

"Your Royal Majesties, my Lords and Ladies, all of you present today to mourn a great King. During my... isolation over these five years past, I have come to appreciate all the little things that when put together make up the whole. With the loss of my lover", sharp intakes of breath could be heard the entire hall through, "with the loss of my lover I have decreed that I shall take no paramour to replace he that I lost, no other could nor would grant me the solace and devotion shown to me by this one man. The succession will still hold firm with The Lady Morgana, Queen to follow me and her heirs to follow her."

The outcry is nigh deafening as the nobles clamoured to be heard and the ladies decried their missed chances.

"Silence!" the voice of command.

"I have said that I will take no other than the one who was taken from me and in this vein I decree that Sodomy nor any love between and man and a man, nor a woman and a woman be a crime within Camelot."

Raising his voice even louder to be heard above the outcry he continues, "Therefore I give you your new King Consort, Merlin of Ealdor."

Striding through the crowds to the dais I see the same dark haired man I saw those many years ago, the one worshiping Arthur's soul and body... I saw Merlin before us all.

"Futhermore, the ban on the practice of magic is also lifted and I welcome to the ranks of Royal Advisors, His Royal Highness Merlin of Ealdor, Royal Court Sorcerer."

After the outcry of Merlin's apparent rebirth, this silence is unnerving as all recalled the fate of Merlin previously. For him to be here now was the mark of power unheard of, the power of life and death.

Dropping to one knee before his King, Merlin reached out for Arthurs hand with the royal signet and placed the Kiss of Fealty upon its ruby surface.

The Arch Bishop seemed to be having problems breathing by this point, although not that anyone on the dais paid any heed. His fit of apoplexy just a joy to behold as dear to me as Arthur and his Merlin now.

"We have one final appointment to the Royal Privy Council; I call upon Brother Claudius to be our Spiritual Advisor and Representative to the Church of Rome. I thank his Eminence, The Arch Bishop of Albion for his time and efforts here in the Court of Camelot and do wish him well on his imminent return to Rome."

None present could mistake the courtly words for anything other than what they were; Arthur was banishing the Arch Bishop back to Rome and placing his own candidate in the position of power... oh Lord above, he means me.

"We call Brother Claudius to present himself to us."

From behind me, hands press into my back as I am propelled towards the dais and their Royal Majesties. Unable to miss the inscrutable gaze of Merlin and feeling fear within my entire being I abase myself before them.

"Nay my friend... rise."

Taking hold of my hand, I am pulled upright by King Arthur himself.

Speaking softer now to both Merlin and myself, Arthur's voice is pitched to just above a whisper, "If it were not for you Claudius, I would have gone insane in that cell, for that alone I would have honoured and respected you, but you have also proven to me that Christers are not all like Benedict and most just wish to live in peace, for that your are honoured, respected and raised to the honour of Royal Advisor."

Seeing Merlin's face soften at Arthur's words and then to hear him speak was a balm to my soul.

"Arthur has not had much time to tell me of his time below the castle and although you are not one who I would have expected to care, you obviously did and did so unstintingly, for this you have my thanks and respect, but we shall speak further anon."

Seeing the look of pure malevolence directed at me by the Arch Bishop left a chill that settled deep into my bones and which took many hours to dissipate.

"Now guests all, we shall make our way to the great hall and we shall remember the King, My Father, Uther."


	5. So Far From Home

Så Långt, Långtifrån Hem (So Very Far From Home)

It is a miracle to see the open affection and outright love that Arthur has showered Merlin with so far tonight, not a miracle that he is doing so, but a miracle that only a small murmur is heard from all present. It is almost as if the last twenty five years had never occurred.

The natural emulation of the King accounts for some of this, but certainly not all; maid and maid no longer skulk the corners and shadows or hide in their chambers, servants and masters, mistress' and maids, lads and lads. No more do these furtive glances and forbidden touches remain within the realms of punishment and death; no... they are now seen as openly as those whom court the other sex... although certainly not _quite_ so blatantly.

Camelot has mourned and now they celebrate, it celebrates the coronation of a new king and also celebrates the coming of a new age, but there is still two people here tonight who are not celebrating; Benedict, my... Arch Bishop still sits at the high table, but he is well aware that tonight is the last he shall spend within these walls. The other is Morgana, deep in her cups and from what I have seen, no longer waters her drink, but drinks directly from the mether before her and is obviously worse for wear for it. Her maid Guinevere seems to be just as upset as her mistress if the cool looks she darts occasionally to Arthur are any indication.

I can feel eyes upon my back and without looking I know to whom they belong, Benedict... it is only a matter of time before he makes a move this evening. Unable to directly face Arthur he will go for the one he can, the one he has always been able to coerce and force, the same person who now holds the position he so desperately craved... Me.

Since my formal appointment this afternoon, I have made a quick study into the practices and habits of the former advisor. The accounts and tallies that line his shelves made for interesting reading, it appears that some dozen or more estates have been tithed to the Church of Rome and some eight or nine have been left to Benedict personally as payment for indulgences and willed to the Church upon death leaving the remaining family destitute and homeless. The yearly taxation from these estates alone equals fifteen times what my family's estates back in Rome earn within five years and those familial estates are very lucrative and vast.

And there you see my shame; I, Claudius Alfonse de' Justine, only son to Augustus Perinos de' Justine, Governor of the Tirol region. I myself was 'elected' to the post of Magistrati. It was the pure nepotism that lead me to defy my father and my family and take the vows in Rome... not the most ignoble of reasons, but certainly not ones that could give me any comfort either.

Regardless, my family's estates were sizable and their income high, but this still doesn't begin to come close to the wealth that Benedict had managed to sequester away in his time of service to the King. I had promised myself that I would allow Arthur and Merlin the evening to enjoy themselves as they could, but the feeling of unease... and to be honest vindictiveness, leads me directly to Arthur's feet.

"Your Majesties, may I have a moment of time before you?" Nice to know I still hadn't forgotten the niceties.

Raising an eyebrow in askance, Arthur turns quickly to Merlin and I am positive an unspoken conversation occurred.

"Come, this would be better conducted in private." Merlin's voice grave.

Motioning to a couple of knights, Arthur had a hurried word to them and indicated over to where Benedict still was seated at the board. With nods of acquiescence the knights positioned themselves either side of the board and waited... for what I didn't know.

"Come, I think I know who you wish to discuss... and maybe even what." Arthur's face betrayed his worry and if it didn't, then the fact he repeatedly kept worrying his lower lip with his teeth did.

~**~

"Benedict." Short and flat, almost expressionless.

Nodding my head even though it was rhetorical, "Yes, Benedict. There is much more to him than just his control over the former King and Christendom in Albion." The distaste in my words does nothing to dispel the feelings of sickness and anger in my stomach.

"Albion has made Benedict a very wealthy man, many demenses have been tithed to the Church or willed personally to Benedict upon the ruling lord's demise. At a quick accounting, more than ninety thousand gold has been transferred from personal estates to either the Church or Benedict himself. Benedict enjoys great power and luxury, even though his personal chambers are sparse. A man with that sort of wealth may purchase many things... even the death of an inconvenient King."

Arthur's face is incredulous.

"No man, however well placed, would seek the death of a ruling monarch."

I think my face mirrored Arthur's incredulous one of before, "Are you such a fool then Arthur Pendragon? To believe that such a thing is impossible, if a man such as Benedict wants you gone, you can be sure that there would be many who would happily do his bidding for the right incentive."

Looking to Merlin, I can see that he understands the situation much more than his erstwhile lover does, but yet he remains silent on the matter. The only indication that he wishes me to continue is a small nod of his head.

"My own country's history is full of such tales, not to mention your own. Your great, great grandfather was second cousin to the king, he himself led an uprising against the ruling monarch and sequestered himself as King. You must know this and yet you deign to believe that such a thing is impossible? You are either naive, or foolishly misguided... or just plain stupid."

The backhand slap that connects with my cheek brings tears to my eyes as I realise that he is no longer the imprisoned Prince, but instead the ruling King.

"Forgive me Your Majesty; it was not my place to speak as such."

Mortified that I had the temerity to speak as such to the king has my cheeks flaming brighter than the handprint that adorns my left cheek and I drop to my knees and abase myself before him.

Minutes pass with only the fraught silence screaming louder than a bansidhe. I feel fingers lift my chin and there before my very eyes is Arthur, tears upon his own cheeks.

"No, forgive me Claudius, you speak of things that I wish to remain ignorant of, but know better regardless. You are correct about my father's grandsire; he did murder his own king to ascend the throne in his place... I have raised you to personal advisor and yet I myself find that there is much of my own father in me when it comes to unpalatable truths, for even Uther would not listen when others more wise would speak if he it deemed so."

His fingers rest under my chin, his thumb just above my lips and it is more than I can bear as my mind shuts off and my body reacts to his touch. With his thumb softly caressing my lips, I open my mouth slightly and pursing my lips lay the gentlest of kisses on his thumb.

My own mortal weakness has been that this man is one I would follow to my death, not for allegiance, not for duty, but for love.

"Claudius." Softly breathed against my forehead, followed by the brief press of his lips, swiftly there and gone.

The air surrounds us with such power as we both remember the other still in the room.

Merlin's eyes are a blazing gold and his expression murderous, power crackling the very air around us.

Reaching out to Merlin, Arthur rests one hand upon his leg.

"Mer... both Claudius and I know who my heart belongs to, but this man before us has helped me in ways you were unable to. Nothing untoward has ever occurred, nor will it ever... but remember this, I have been aware of Caludius' feelings for me for many years and I too in my own way care for him deeply. But it is you Merlin that makes my heart beat... I may wear the ring bound to your heart, but my heart is tied to it as well, for if your heart ceases to beat, then mine will as well moments after. You have nothing to fear from Claudius and you have even less to fear from his feelings for me."

Even knowing the truth of his words, my own heart cries out at the injustice of it, where was Merlin when his lover was locked away? Who was the one person that cared for the Prince during his isolation...? I knew regardless where his heart has and will always be focused... and it is not on me.

"Claudius, Merlin and I need to discuss this, it would be better if you left us. Remember one thing though, you do own a piece of my heart, please be content with that. I could not bear to send you away anymore than I could bear to lose Merlin over this."

Both Merlin and I knew that this was directed at both of us; with his words, Arthur was reassuring both of us and still letting us both know how it was.

The air around us stilled, as if some great power was about to be loosed, then nothing, the air was nothing more than something we breathe.

Moving over to Merlin, I bow my head, "Forgive me, you must know how I feel and why."

Merlin's response was his hand on top of my head and his voice, soft and understanding, "I understand only too well what lengths Arthur Pendragon can make us go for nothing but his love. Go now, we shall talk privately anon."

Shuffling out the door, my head low and heart in two... I let the fact that Arthur does care for me warm me as tears of loss break free.


	6. Reason Reflects the Truth

Förnuftet speglar sanningen (Reason Reflects The Truth)

"He owns a piece of your heart?" His eyebrow rises inquisitively. "And just exactly when did that happen?" Conversational, but with that fine edge of possessiveness that just does _things_ to me.

"So, just how many others may lay claim to pieces of your heart My King." That _My King_ is definitely mocking, the rest is pure jealousy... and a jealous Merlin is one that completely disregards rank and takes me like the dog I am.

"Everyone loves the king Merlin... everyone." Smirking as his eyes turn dark and his breathing hitches. It is so easy to play him when he gets like this, I know who will pay for it as well... and I'm counting on it.

"And does everyone get to lay claim to more than a piece of your heart? Do they lay you down and take their pleasure from you? Or do you go down on your knees before them, mouth their cocks through their robes? I know you Arthur Pendragon, you can't get by without satisfying that urge you get, that urge that turns you into a slattern... a cock craving hole."

Merlin's eyes are pure black now, glaring holes through me, I am so going to pay for it this time... and I can't wait.

"I think you need to be reminded just who exactly you belong to Arthur," dark, gravelly tone now, just making me want him more and more.

Standing upright with his shoulders back gives him an air of power, the lazy arrogance of his stance make me want to submit to him even more, his eyes no longer boring holes through me, but instead indifferent and ambivalent... as if I am now beneath his notice.

"Strip."

Reaching up to remove my crown, almost thankful I can take it off... it is not light you know.

"Leave it... leave it on... take the rest off."

This drags a moan from deep inside me; the crowned king of Camelot, servicing his lover. The weight of the crown only another symbol to add to the many it already has.

Remembering all those years ago in the hunting lodge, me stripping down slowly for him, his eyes ablaze with lust, me riding him with abandon... everything about that night fixed in my mind as one of the most erotic experiences of my life.

Only now I want more, I need him to take me totally, to possess and use me... to make me his.

Fumbling with the closures on my robes, my hands trembling as his eyes flicker over me and then away again. Giving up with the closures and gripping either side of the front yokes, I rent them apart, sundering the garment in two.

Shrugging both pieces from my shoulders and watching them pool of the floor around my feet. Feeling Merlin's approving gaze flash over me. Yanking the tunic up over my head and letting it drop to join the ruined robe... black upon blood red, the gold of the Pendragon Crest marred by the black of the tunic and hidden from view as my under-tunic lands on top of the pile.

Naked apart from my crown, I reach for Merlin's signet, the one I gave to him as a betrothal ring only hours before, pressing my lips to it and whispering over it, "My Lord."

A groan, barely heard from Merlin, almost a growl breathed softly, as I make my way down his body, past his legs to his feet. Easing each boot off and placing them out of the way, his stockings follow in the same way until his feet are bared.

Bringing my knees up so my back arches I dip my head to his feet. Each toe in turn, taken in to my mouth before lifting each foot and nuzzling his instep, my tongue flickering constantly across his skin.

Glancing up, I meet his impassive stare with humbled eyes before looking back down again quickly.

Reaching beneath his robe, I undo the ties of his breeches and let them pool at his feet and lifting each foot in turn, remove them from him

Placing each arm behind my back, I use my head and the back of my neck to get under Merlin's robe, rising to my knees and looking at Merlin's cock directly in front of my face in the dim gloom beneath his robe.

Laying my cheek against the crease of his thigh, I inhale deeply the scents of his body and his cock, musky and earthy smells that is purely Merlin alone. His half-hardened cock jutting out slightly as the scent of his arousal assails my body. Mouthing where his leg meets his groin, the flavour and taste of Merlin intensifies as his hand forces my head hard onto his crotch, my nose crushed against the base of his now hard cock.

Opening my mouth to take him in is the only option I have left as my own arousal peaks and washes over me, leaving me breathless.

Taking his head between my lips, his foreskin not fully back, I slide my tongue beneath it and the full taste of Merlin explodes on my tongue, acrid piss and musky arousal, the slight tang of his pre-come all combine as my tongue swirls around the head of his prick.

With his hand forcing my head further down, I swallow his length further and further, my lips and tongue surrounding the firm flesh and soft skin. His hips driving himself deeper and deeper down my throat until my nose rests on the dark hairs at the base of his prick, so unbelievably deep... so unbelievably good.

His hand keeps forcing my head down further, pressing the crown almost painfully against my skull, but I could not care either way. His cock so deep in my gullet, almost blocking any air, thrusting harder and deeper I can't help it as my throat contracts against his prick, gagging... milking.

Feeling the tremors in his legs, I renew my efforts, fucking my throat on his cock, revelling in his taste. His hand lifts from my head, then reconnects powerfully above my ear as he pulls his cock from my mouth, not willing to let go I dive deeper on it again, receiving another crack to my head.

Finally getting the message, I let his cock spring from my mouth to make a wet splat against his belly and rest my head back against his thigh and I wait.

Pushing my head down, down past his cock and his thighs, his thin legs and long elegant feet until my cheek rests upon the cold flagstone below.

I blink as the bright light of the room is revealed once more as Merlin steps away from me.

I hear my own breath panting and my spittle coating my chin and dripping down the length of my throat. My face feels hot and flushed, my cock hard and aching and my body feels a yearning for more.

I can hear him rummage through the garderobe, the sound of clothing being discarded to the floor the only thing I hear apart from my own breathing, until his faint footsteps tell me he returns.

His foot between my legs, forcing my knees further apart, his other foot leans heavily on my back, forcing it to arch and then I feel it.

Trailing lightly across the small of my back, across the top of my arse... my sword belt.

The faint smell of leather and the feather light touch as it caresses my body.

A sweat breaks out on my forehead as I imagine what comes next, fear wars with anticipation, want battles with run and as the first stoke sears my arse, pain fights with pleasure.

That lightning strike that feels cool for only a fraction of a moment, giving way to a burn so intense and precise that finally dies to a sullen ache.

"Who do you belong to?"

Another strike and another flaming welt crosses the previous one, burning away any pretence of my power, proving to me that I am just a man.

Another stripe and the same question again.

Tears mingle with the sweat as the air gets driven from my lungs with each stroke of leather. Cries with every taste of the cruel belt as words refuse to form and I am incapable of speech.

"Who do you belong to Arthur Pendragon?"

A final, terrible blow lands directly across all of the other welts and I scream for forgiveness and pledge my life and soul to him... to Merlin.

My tears trek down my face and onto the cold hard stone below as his voice hovers softly just above me, "Yes Arthur... you belong to me... and I belong to you." His hands cradle my face and his lips are as a benediction, soothing away my tears and holding my heart in his hands

Raising my face to meet his, our lips finally meet and all pain is forgotten.

"Go to the bed and wait for me, I will be back shortly... it is time to speak to Claudius."

Shocked, I can do nothing but stare incomprehensively at him, "Why speak to him now? Why leave here reeking of me to speak to him now?"

"You may think it is cruel Arthur, but I do understand how he feels for you... how could I not? I shall not harm nor raise my voice; he will understand that I have claimed you without anything being said. Plus, we must find out more about Benedict tonight, although I fear we may already be too late to prevent whatever plot he may have devised."

"No, I must go now, I shall not be long and when I return, I shall take you over and over again until all you can recall is my body in yours."

His eyes are full of desire and need, I am sure my show the same.

I know he is right and that we must find out what Benedict has planned, but after the past hour, I'm not sure I can be removed enough... no Merlin is right, he must speak to Claudius alone and he must do it this evening.

With a petulant sigh I capitulate, "Make sure you come straight back here Merlin, I need to feel you."

Pulling his head back down to meet mine, I place a chaste kiss upon his lips, "Now go... and hurry back."

Looking around at the spartan room, I revel in the memory of Arthur's kiss. I know nothing may come of my love for him, but that I have some place in his heart soothes the ache that I shall never taste him again.

Glancing around, I need to do something about this chamber, whilst I have simple tastes, this austerity that my predecessor believed in is too stark for my tastes... perhaps some simple wall hangings and maybe bed curtains would help liven the room up.

Lost in a simple desire to have something of my own I fail to hear the knock at my chamber door until it is opened roughly and a sword is pointed at my throat.


	7. An Angel in the Room

Ängeln i Rummet (An Angel in the Room)

Swallowing heavily, I raise my face in defiance of the sword pressed against my throat; the face that meets my eyes is the one who I should have known better than to discount, "Julius Gaius... you are quite the distance from Tirol."

A tall man with the swarthy complexion indicative of our region, his dark eyes burning with the fanaticism of the overly devout, once he was my friend... but circumstances and familial duties put paid to our friendship many years prior. His friendship to me at the time was invaluable, his desertion on the other hand... cut as liquid fire through me.

"Why are you here Julius?"

"I would have thought it was obvious." His voice, accented harshly, no longer the rolling gait of our native Tirol.

"Benedict." No more needed to be said.

The slight quiver that went through him translating itself through his sword and nicking my neck. This one hesitation was all the mercy Julius was prepared to offer, I feel his sword raise once more and close my eyes to await its descent.

"For the mercy of Our Lord, I forgive thee Julius."

Waiting for the blow that would surely sever my head from my shoulders, dreams of the past and present flash past my eyes, images of a red headed warrior queen crowned with oak and circled with gold, avenging her loss and grief. Prescience has never been one of my gifts, but I know that this woman was the answer and a warning all at once.

With her name on my lips and the sweep of air from the descending blade, I make my peace.

The pain that follows is indescribable as the air is forced from my body by the agony, but where I had expected to lose my head, my arm instead receives the blow. As my vision fades, an ethereal glow lights the room and an angel appears before me and I am positive that it is Archangel Michaelus here to bring me home.

I think this is the first wilful lie I have told Arthur... being magical doesn't count, not when my own head was on the line... but just now, I told Arthur that I understood Claudius' feelings and felt no ill will to him.

Wrong, Arthur is mine, has always been mine... and always will be mine. Do I hold Claudius' feelings against him? Asked and answered... of course I do. Do I want Claudius hurt because of them? Maybe.

Releasing a sigh, I realise that no matter what I want, my own jealousy is the seat of it all. I resent that Claudius had those five years with Arthur, five years in which he could fall for him and be near him... five years in which all I did was be apart from him.

Those five years sped by me as five months, with my wings locked I circled Albion from above, always dreaming of being below, but never able to do so. Fear, fear is what held me back, I knew that Arthur would know I still lived, the ring on his finger would have told him, but my fear of being sent away from him shaped as I was, was enough to keep me at a distance.

It took all of my strength to land on that oak and every bit of my will to land on the Falconer's wrist that time. To be so close to Arthur, but so far from him was heartbreaking, the best I could do was to perch on the bars of his cell and gaze longingly inside. Until that moment when Arthur raised his hand to me I knew not what his reaction would have been to me, and it is this fear that shames me now... that and the fact that I am going to face Claudius reeking of sex, Arthur's scent all over me. And even knowing just what that will do to Claudius, I still will do it regardless.

People call me many things, Royal Consort, Court Magician, Emrys... all of these things are only titles. People forget that I am still a man, a man from a small village, whose mother named Merlin and even if they do call me by my name, it is not the man that they speak to, but the image of something greater that has been imagined and foreseen.

It was easier when all I had to worry about was cleaning up after Arthur and not being killed by Uther.

"I would have thought it was obvious."

Checking my stride at the unknown voice, I pause, waiting for an answer that did not want to come.

"Benedict."

I have to know what is being said, gathering my will, I turn my awareness inwards, spiralling towards the realm of thought and belief. Releasing my mind from the physical I feel a detachment from the world around me as I cast my mind towards the Claudius' room

A faint blue tinge surrounds everything, focusing upon Claudius, resplendent within a golden glow, the other one dark and smudged with green and murky hues. It is here that I realise that my own feelings of jealousy and spite towards Claudius are unwarranted.

With the other lifting his sword, I feel the strength of hatred this man has towards Claudius. Not needing any further prompting, I cast my mind towards this man and lock his body in place.

The sword, that once was at Claudius' throat now embedded in his arm and his mind calling and grasping at mine as I am caught within the grasp of his vision.

A queen, fiery locks, with her sword in hand; a golden torc surrounding her throat and woven oak leaves circle her brow. This Queens grief shown by the haggard lines etched upon her visage, her kin gone... perhaps dead and her terrible vengeance upon those she blamed. Her name is Boudica, the sound of her war cry floating on the aethers, a guide and a curse... a way and a warning. She too battled the Romans and she won, but the price... the price was too dear, a pyrrhic victory against the roman invaders, the battles won, but the price was her crown and kingdom.

Why she would appear in a vision granted to a Christer I do not know, but the reason for the vision was clear, there was a way to defeat Rome, but the price may be too high.

Thrust free from our shared sight by Claudius' exhausted and agonised mind, I feel my mind recoil back to the physical in a flare of light that outlined my shape on the walls. Arms outstretched, exactly as if I was flying again, the glow surrounding the shadow making it appear as if I had wings again.

The calmness in Claudius' eyes before they glazed and closed frightened me, he had seen me with his visions, and I had no doubt that another name would be added to my growing list of honorific's.

Calling out for a guard, I rush to Claudius' body, his arm almost severed and his life blood pooling on the cold stones beneath, raising my hands to his arm, I can see there is nothing I can do to save it, but if I hurry, I can at least save his life.

Looking inwards again and thanking Gaius for forcing me to learn some anatomy, I trace the lines of his blood flow, closing and sealing each severed or torn vessel, burning the flesh to seal and protect the remains of the stump of his arm. Drawing the pain from his body as easily as one would water from a jug.

I wait until I see Claudius' breathing deepen and his colour return from that ghastly pallor. Always a pale man, Claudius now seemed translucent from the loos of blood and I could only hope I had done enough to save him, now it was up to him if he had the will to go on.


End file.
